


Less Distress, More Happiness

by tiniestawoo



Series: Distress Call 'Verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, also, author creates their own version of magic, don't judge the names of the kids okay, post-Distress Call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23234614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniestawoo/pseuds/tiniestawoo
Summary: A series of shorts about the future of our friends from The Distress Call. Be sure to read that first or you're going to be super duper confused. Alternatively, you can just accept what I'm writing about, but like, it'll be better if you read the big fic first.orDistress Call: The Next Generation
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale/Original Male Character(s), Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Peter Hale/Original Male Character(s), Scott McCall/Malia Tate
Series: Distress Call 'Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670524
Comments: 78
Kudos: 343





	1. Selene Hale

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and Welcome to a new iteration of the Distress Call 'verse! This is a 'chaptered' fic but it's not really going to be linear. it's just going to be a convenient way for me to collect these stories. I have no idea how many of them I'm going to write, but I definitely suggest reading this one - it introduces the kids from the Hale Pack!!

DH: Your daughter got into a fight at school  
SSH: Oh, I see, when she gets in trouble she’s my daughter  
DH: Well, she clearly didn’t get her troublemaking from me  
DH: I’m fairly sure Atlas has never gotten in trouble.  
SSH: Atlas is five and literally the quietest of all the kids.  
SSH: Either way, you’re the one at the school, so I think that makes her your daughter for now.

Derek Hale grinned at his phone before tucking it away, pulling sunglasses down onto his face as he stepped out of his car, reaching to button the button on his suitjacket that he’d undone to drive comfortably. The school building before him was a large, dark-red brick monstrosity with a sign that boasted “North-Central California Academy.” All six of the packs school-aged children attended the school, which was run by a small group of witches and humans that knew about the supernatural. The three at home that weren’t old enough to attend stayed with Peter and Lupe during the day. Several of the children from the McCall pack also attended, as the school was settled conveniently between the Beacon Hills Pack territory and the Sacramento Pack Territory lines. It was heavily warded courtesy of Stiles and Gianna, and all staff had to go through a rigorous screening process that included Peter, John Stilinski, and Theo’s investigations. 

Orion Hale was the oldest of the Hale pack’s children at 12 (“and a half, Uncle Derek”) and was the elf-werewolf son of Peter and Lupe. Arianna Whittemore Martin, a werewolf, had turned 11 last month, and between her mother’s brains and her father’s mouth, Derek rued the day she came of age. His and Stiles’ daughter, Selene, was ten, and despite the assumption that, as Derek and Stiles’ first born, she’d be the alpha-heir, it wasn’t entirely clear. Her grasp of magic was surprising to even the most well-read magical scholars. Most werewolves had an innate relationship with magic, but for a wolf to be able to actually wield it was something that hadn’t been seen in centuries. As the daughter of a Gajos mage, and a Hale-bloodline wolf, Selene had a lot of potential, but a lack of focus that was reminiscent of her biological father, and a temper courtesy of her egg donor.

The fraternal Lahey twins, Tori and Alex, were eight, and both human, which wasn’t entirely surprising given that their parents were a bitten wolf and a human. They inherited their mothers warm, dimpled smiles and their fathers curly blond hair. They were probably the sweetest of all the kids, but they were deceptively dangerous, having trained alongside their werewolf pack mates as soon as they were old enough, supplemented with lessons from their grandfather. Peter and Lupe’s second child, Olivia Hale, 7, was an elf, the apple of her grandmother’s eye, and the bane of Derek’s existence, as she was a sly, observant child, with an understanding of things well outside of what was appropriate for her age. Olivia looked up to Selene, and together, the combined the two were a volatile mixture – capable of both amazing magical feats and massive snarling fights. 

The NCC Academy didn’t include kindergarten, so Atlas Hale, Stiles and Derek’s son, courtesy of 9-months renting out Allison’s womb, was 5. To everyones surprise, Atlas had yet to show any signs of being a werewolf, which was rare, but not unheard of. He stayed at home with Laura Thomas, Cora and Grant’s 4-year old werewolf daughter, and the pack’s baby, 3-year old Morgan Whittemore Martin, who was human, but Stiles suspected that she may not stay that way. 

The pack, at times, complained about the adult-to-child ratio, but every single adult member of the pack would give their lives for any of the children, related or not. Derek, as the alpha, was thrilled to see his pack growing. Since the events of January and February almost fifteen years ago, the western coast packs had formed a strong alliance, and between Stiles, Faris, Gianna, and the other emissaries, there was a warding network that spanned from Vancouver to Tijuana. Hunters, who had reorganized under the guidance of Chris Argent and Allison Argent-Lahey, rarely ventured into their territory ,and were met with immediate resistance once they did. The children were safe and happy, and the pack was growing, and Derek’s wolf was content. 

It was considerably less content the moment he stepped into the school building and smelled another alpha. Scott McCall was dressed in grey chinos and a black hoody that proclaimed ‘Beacon Hills Veterinary Center’ across his chest. He looked up to meet Derek’s eye and nodded, “Well, that answers half my question.” He said with a grin. Derek raised an eyebrow in response and Scott continued, “I’m guessing one of your kids was the other half of the fight Dominic got into.” 

Derek sighed, “Yeah, Selene.” Scott chuckled.

The principal opened the door to her office, looking frazzled, and motioned the two alphas into the room, bowing her head in deference. Inside the office, Dominic McCall, a werewolf, born a few months after Selene, was sitting with his arms crossed across his chest on a chair against the far wall, staring away from all of the adults and Selene. Selene was sat on a chair against the near wall, he hands folded in her lap, smiling smugly, black hair tied back in a simple ponytail. The two alphas took seats next to their children, the entire office smelling distinctly disappointed.

“Alpha Hale, Alpha McCall. I’m sorry to pull you both away from work, however, I do think this conversation needs to happen. It may have needed to happen much sooner than today.” The Principal, Sydney Gresham, an accomplished witch who had moved to California at Stiles’ request to assist with the school, sat at her desk with her arms resting on it. “Today, Selene and Dominic got into a physical fight on the playground at lunch time. Their injuries have, naturally, healed by now.” Sydney turned to Selene, “Selene, why don’t you tell your dad and Alpha McCall what you were fighting about.”

Selene glared at Dominic across the office, “Dominic said he was the alpha so I had to listen to him.” She looked up at Derek, “He’s not my alpha, dad, you are.” Derek sighed.

Scott turned to Dominic, “Dom, you know that Selene isn’t in your pack, and that neither of you are alphas.” 

“Yeah, but I’m gonna be, dad, I’m gonna be a true alpha like you.” Dominic was still staring at the wall, “Everyone always treats Selene like she’s special, but she’s not better than me. Her dad isn’t a true alpha.”

Scott and Derek shared a long-suffering look. Derek turned to Selene, “So, Selene, what did you do after he said that?”

“I challenged him to a fight.” She said, grinning up at him, “That’s how you and Uncle Peter said alphas get chosen, sometimes alphas fight. I wanted to show Dominic that I was gonna be the better alpha than him.” 

The principal cleared her throat, “Regardless of who is or isn’t going to be an alpha in the future, fights like this are not acceptable at school. Selene and Dominic may both be werewolves, but they could have gotten a non-wolf child involved in the fight, and they could have gotten hurt. As such, they’ll both be suspended for two days for the fight. Given today is Wednesday, I’ll see them both at school on Monday. I hope that the two of you will use this weekend to impress the need for peaceful resolutions to disagreements.”

“Of course, Principal Gresham.” Scott said, rolling his eyes at his son, “Dominic, I want you to apologize to Selene.” He said, motioning at the other child, “What you said was unnecessary. You can both be alphas. Yes, I’m a true alpha, but that doesn’t make Selene’s dad any less of an alpha. You’re both born werewolves, and some day, you might have to be able to work together.” 

Dominic uncurled his arms from around his legs and turned to Derek and Selene. “Sorry.” He muttered, dropping his eyes back to the floor.

Derek turned to Selene and nudged her. She looked up with a groan, “Apology accepted. Sorry I fought you.” She turned to the Principal, “Sorry we got into a fight Principal Gresham.” 

Derek wrapped an arm around Selene’s shoulders, “Let’s get out of here, kiddo.” He looked up at Scott and gave another nod before leading his daughter back to her classroom to retrieve her things. 

When they were tucked away in the car, and Derek had texted Peter and Lupe not to expect Selene when they picked up the rest of the children, he turned to his daughter, “Selene, what’s wrong, baby?” He cocked his head to the side, “Why did you let Dominic get under your skin like that.”

Selene slumped down in the back seat, arms crossed over her chest, “Dominic said I didn’t smell like an alpha. He said I smelled too much like magic, that I’m probably gonna be an Emissary and that Arianna or Orion is gonna be the alpha.” She looked up, “Why did daddy have to give me magic. It’s dumb I don’t even want it. I just want to be a normal werewolf.” 

Derek sighed, “I want you to listen to me, Selene.” He reached back to take his daughter’s hand, “Your daddy didn’t choose for you to have his magic. He didn’t control that. The Moon will choose the right alpha for this pack when the time comes. When everyone is older, it’ll be clearer who that’s going to be. If something happened to me right now, Aunt Cora would become the alpha, so we’ve got a long time before we even need to worry about it, my love.” Derek kissed her hand softly, “Let’s go see Daddy at work, huh?.” 

Selene shrugged and nodded, “Okay.” 

\--

DH: Selene got into a fight with Dom McCall  
DH: We’re stopping by in a few.  
SSH: Who won?  
DH: …  
DH: Y’know, I didn’t ask, seeing as she’s been sent home from school for two days. I don’t think asking about winning the fight is going to do a good job of discouraging her from fighting.  
SSH: Fun Governor.

\--  
Derek waved at the field office receptionist and watched as Selene barreled through the small building towards Stiles’ office at the back. Special Agent In Charge Stiles Stilinski-Hale had made a name for himself, bouncing between the Sacramento, San Francisco, and Los Angeles field offices over the years. After Atlas’ birth five years ago, he’d requested to be placed as permanently as possible in Sacramento, and had gotten the promotion along with the transfer. 

Selene did make a pit stop in Grant’s office on the way to Stiles’, popping in to kiss her uncle’s cheek before continuing on to find her daddy. Derek waved as he passed and then settled into one of the guest chairs in Stiles’ office. Stiles, now almost forty, had aged well, despite the stress of their lives. His face was carved with lines around his mouth and eyes that would further deepen through the years, and his hair was flecked with grey, signs of his humanity that wasn’t reflected in werewolves, who aged more gradually. 

Selene was sitting on the edge of Stiles’ desk, grin mirroring the one on Stiles’ face. “So who won?” Stiles asked, winking at Selene. “I gotta know. Your dad said he didn’t ask.” 

Selene gave Derek a fierce and distinctly-Hale scowl, “I don’t know who won. We didn’t fight long enough. It was only like, thirty seconds and then Orion had to ruin everything and throw up some kind of shield between us that I couldn’t figure out how to get through before the teachers got there. I got in a few good hits though.” Selene’s expression shifted to a wry grin. 

Derek suddenly thanked the moon for his Cousin’s quick thinking. All the adults were referred to as “aunt” or “uncle” regardless of actual blood relation, but technically, being Peter’s son, Orion was Derek and Cora’s cousin. Family trees got overwhelming fast, and Peter had always hovered as more of a brother than an uncle to Derek anyway. Derek leaned forward, “Selene, tell daddy what you told me, about what Dominic said.” 

Selene turned to study Derek’s face, “Dad…” She sighed and turned back to Stiles, “He said I smelled like magic, not like a wolf. He said I wasn’t gonna be the alpha, I was gonna end up being an emissary.” She covered her face with her hands, “I just want to be a normal werewolf, daddy.” 

Stiles sighed and wrapped his daughter in a tight embrace, “Selene, your magic is a part of you.” He stroked a hand through the hair that stuck out of her ponytail, “I know that it’s hard right now because it makes you different, but you wouldn’t have your magic if there wasn’t a good reason for it. I’ve told you the story about Grandma Claudia giving me her magic, right?” Selene nodded against his shoulder, “Your magic is special, and important, just like you, little wolf. And, can I tell you a secret?” 

“What?” Selene whispered, even though she and Stiles probably knew full well that Derek could hear them. 

Stiles leaned close and nuzzled against the side of her head, “Being an Emissary is WAY more fun than being an alpha. So really, even if you end up being an emissary, you’re still going to be awesome.” Stiles lifted his face to wink across the room at his husband. Derek smiled widely back, adoration singing down their three-fold bond.


	2. Orion Hale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion Hale was special. It was an undeniable, irrefutable fact that had been impressed on him by his fathers and the rest of his pack since he was old enough to understand words. He was special, he was unique, he was different. One of his fathers was a werewolf who had technically been dead twice, and the other one had literally birthed him (and his younger sister) courtesy of a quirk in elvish genetics and how those genes interacted with magic. He was a child that shouldn’t exist, but he did.
> 
> And most days it made him feel incredibly fucking alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is technically Teen for language? I'm not sure if there's eventually going to be relationships and whatnot. We're so deep into the original characters at this point is it technically fanfiction? Unclear.

Orion Hale was special. It was an undeniable, irrefutable fact that had been impressed on him by his fathers and the rest of his pack since he was old enough to understand words. He was special, he was unique, he was different. One of his fathers was a werewolf who had technically been dead twice, and the other one had literally birthed him (and his younger sister) courtesy of a quirk in elvish genetics and how those genes interacted with magic. He was a child that shouldn’t exist, but he did.

And most days it made him feel incredibly fucking alone. 

His entire family seemed to be made up of incredibly unique individuals. His father had escaped a house fire that had killed almost all the rest of the Hales, aside from Uncle Derek and Aunt Cora. Uncle Derek had given up an alpha spark once to save Aunt Cora’s life from a darach. Aunt Allison had survived being stabbed by an Oni, and had been a ritual sacrifice to save Ms. Melissa, and Grandpa John and Grandpa Chris, neither of whom were really his grandfather, but both of were was also sort of everyones’ grandfathers. One time, his birth father had actually shoved his hand into the Alpha’s chest twice. 

And then there was Uncle Stiles. Uncle Stiles was an anomaly and an enigma and somehow, despite the fact that he was human, he was – inarguably—the most dangerous member of the pack. He had two mages’ worth of magic at his beck and call. He had trained with magical scholars all over the country, and in various parts of the world. He’d been an alpha-mate for more of his life, at this point, than he’d not been. He had survived losing his mother as a child, ritual sacrifice, possession, betrayal, kidnapping, a broken mate-bond, and through all of it, he was still warm, loving, and open. 

Which is why Orion was standing in front of Uncle Stiles’ office with his hand primed to knock, but hesitating to do so. He should have this conversation with the alpha, really, or one of his fathers, but he was, beneath the veneer of special and unique and powerful, terrified of the request he had to make, and of the people in the pack with the power to help him with his request, Uncle Stiles was the one he could trust to understand. 

After all, Uncle Stiles was special too. 

Orion only got a single knock against the door before the study door opened and Stiles motioned him forward. Orion stepped in and the door closed behind him. Stiles studied Orion for a long moment and then, almost imperceptibly, one of his fingers twitched, and the background noise of the family complex faded away, giving him and Uncle Stiles privacy. “Are you okay?” Stiles asked, getting up from his desk and moving over to the couch at the end of the room. Orion followed and sat at the opposte end. The couch smelled most thoroughly like Uncle Derek, but Atlas and Selene were there too, all the pack really. 

Orion shrugged and nodded, “Physically, yes.” He blinked. “I want to stop going to the academy.” He blurted, hands folded in front of him, eyes away from Stiles.

Orion didn’t have to look up to picture the surprised face the pack’s Emissary was probably making. “So, Oreo, am I here as your uncle, your Emissary, or the Alpha-mate?”

Orion rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “All of them?” He said, bringing his face up finally to meet his eyes. “I just don’t want to be special anymore. I want to be normal; I want to go to school with kids that aren’t my family or the McCall pack, or magic users or other supernaturals. I just want to make friends that like me for me, not because I’m an elf-werewolf, or because I’m a Hale, or because my dad is a Saburo.” Orion crossed his arms over his chest, “You went to normal high school, with Uncle Isaac and Aunt Lydia and Aunt Ally, and Alpha Scott.” He let out a long breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “I want to go to Sacramento Central High for Junior and Senior year.”

Uncle Stiles studied him critically, but not cruelly, and nodded, a smile crossing his features, “Do you remember when Dom and Selene got into a fight, back when they were like, ten?”

Orion snorted, “You mean, do I remember the time they actually got caught.” He grinned, “But yes, I remember. Back before they moved past pulling pigtails and started being friends.”   
Uncle Stiles nodded, “Selene was upset because all she wanted was to be normal. That’s a lot like what you’re telling me. You want a chance to be normal. Do you understand how much work its going to be, Orion? You’ll have to glamour at all times, until you trust someone implicitly. Normal high schools don’t have de-scenting wards to make things more tolerable. Your senses are going to be assaulted all day, every day, including the full moon.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder, “We can possibly work out pulling you out of school some of them, but it becomes suspicious, and having someone catch on could be dangerous, even for you.”

Orion nodded, “I’m going to be 16 soon, I’ve got good control, even Uncle Derek says so, and I know how to glamour from when we travel.” He sat up a little straighter, “Will you help me talk to my dads about this?”

Stiles took a long breath and looked across the study, “If I have to, but first I need to talk to Derek.” 

Orion’s brows furrowed, “He usually agrees with you on things.”

Stiles turned back to Orion with a wry smile, “Oh, yes, normally. However.” Stiles folded his hands together, “If we allow you to go to a mundane high school, Arianna and Selene are going to want to go too. So, this decision affects more than just you, Oreo. So, Derek and I need to make a blanket decision. Then, we’ll announce it as an option for any of the pack kids who want to take it – going to a normal high school.” 

Orion grinned, “Papa won’t go against the alpha.” 

Stiles cocked his head to the side, “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure that Peter isn’t going to put up a fight against this, kiddo. And as soon as I point out to Derek that Selene is affected by this, he’s going to be even worse to convince.” Stiles leaned across to pat Orion’s knee. “If this is really what you want, I’ll fight for you, but if you’re doing this because you got into a fight with someone, or you’re upset with a teacher –”

“I want to be normal, Uncle Stiles. I want friends. I’m so—” _Lonely._

Stiles held up a hand, blessedly allowing him to stop before he said what he meant but didn’t want to vocalize, “Okay. Get out of here, kiddo, let me work my magic.” He wiggled his fingers, electricity jumping between them. 

\--

Two days after Orion’s visit to Uncle Stiles’ office, a pack meeting was called. The meeting room looked a bit like a classroom, with a few couches and a scattering of chairs. Some of the kids sat on the floor, and at the front of the room, Uncle Stiles sat at a loveseat that was reserved for himself and Alpha Derek, but today, the alpha was standing, pacing the front of the room and occasionally glaring at Uncle Stiles.   
“Do you know whats going on?” Selene whispered, from where she sat on the arm of the couch closest to the wall that Orion was leaning against. They were on the far side of the room from where Orion’s fathers sat. Both of them had thrown Orion a confused look but then turned back to the alpha pair at the front of the room. Orion just shrugged in response to Selene’s question, lying by omission was easier than just lying.

Aunt Cora, carrying one-year-old Sebastian was the last to enter the meeting room, closing the door behind her and passing the baby to Uncle Grant before moving to take her place in the chair to the right of the alpha’s loveseat. Peter moved to take the seat on the left, still focused on Stiles and Derek. 

“Well, now that we’re all here.” Stiles sat up straighter, and as soon as he turned to look at him, Orion felt a cold chill. _They decided no_ The thought was terrifying. He didn’t want to – couldn’t continue at the Academy. “Orion approached me a few days ago with a very interesting request, and, after much discussion, Derek and I have decided that the final say on this particular topic needs to be discussed by all of the pack – adults and kids.” 

Derek sighed and finally dropped into the seat next to Stiles. “Orion asked to go to a normal high school to complete his last two years.” He said, bluntly, looking at Orion and then at Peter, whose eyes had finally settled on his son. “After a LOT of deliberation, Stiles and I are in favor of the idea.” Derek looked at Selene, whose face was a blur of indescribable emotions, “For any of the kids who want to go.” The smile on his daughters’ face reinforced the decision he had begrudgingly come to.

“Absolutely not.” Orion’s heart sank as his fathers’ voice shattered through the quiet chatter that had erupted around the room. “It’s not safe.” Peter shook his head, “Especially for you Orion, you’re an elf, you can’t just go to a normal high school.” 

Orion pressed up from the wall and glared at his father, afraid to look at his birth father, but flicked one hand up and focused, feeling a tingle as his eyes faded to a normal blue and the points of his ears softened. “Look Papa, now I’m a real boy.” He said with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve been doing glamour since I was eight. I can act human.” 

“No.” Peter said, meeting his son’s defiant gaze. “It’s not –” 

“I don’t care!” Orion said, throwing his arms out, “I don’t care if it’s not safe. I’m almost sixteen, I’m a werewolf, and I’m an elf. I’ve trained with you since I could walk. I’ve trained with dad and Uncle Stiles, and Grandma Maricella since I could talk to cast spells. I even spent a summer with Uncle Lino. I know how to protect myself, and I’m not a kid anymore. I just want to go to a normal school, Papa.” Orion felt emotions bubble up inside him and he looked at Uncle Stiles, whose eyes were tight, concerned, but who smiled and nodded when he met his gaze. 

Peter sat back and looked at Lupe, “You can’t be in support of this.” 

Lupe had always been the quieter of the two, more level-headed, calm and realistic, “Peter, I grew up in the kingdom.” He said, “I didn’t know anything about the world outside the forest until I was almost an adult. My opinion on this topic is skewed as a result.” He looked at his son with gentle silver-blue eyes, a small smile on his lips, “You say it’s not safe, but Orion’s right. He’s been trained to defend himself his entire life. He’s taken you down in a fight, and with magic he can take down Derek. The dangerous part is the potential of revealing himself, but I’m sure that he understands the gravity of that.” Lupe placed a hand over Peter’s.

“And what happens when he meets a pretty substitute teacher who weasels her way into his life.” Every adult in the room went silent as Peter spoke, coldly, looking away from Lupe to Derek. “How do we prevent that?” 

The alpha’s eyes flashed red and his hands clenched. “Your son is a lot smarter than I was at his age.” He said softly. Uncle Stiles reached to rub gently at the alpha’s back, and Orion was 100% sure there was a story there that the kids hadn’t yet been privy too, “Peter, I’m letting Selene go. I can’t decide for Lydia and Jackson –”

“I’m going.” Arianna said, glancing over her shoulder at her parents. Lydia smiled brightly at her daughter, and Jackson looked like he wanted to disagree, but everyone, including Arianna, knew he wouldn’t go against Lydia’s decision. 

“So, Selene and Arianna are going. If you’re truly worried about safety, wouldn’t it make more sense for Orion to be there too.” Derek swallowed hard.

“You’re being unfair, Peter.” Cora said from the other chair. 

“That’s easy for you to say, your kids are seven and one, you’ve got years before you need to worry about this.” Peter said, sitting back in his chair, shoulders slumped as his eyes fell back to Orion. “This is really what you want?”

Orion met his fathers’ eyes, “I want to have real friends, Papa. I want to have people to hang out with and I want to go out on the weekends, and not spend all my time training and reading. You got to travel the world, you got to go to College, you met dad. You’ve _died_.” Orion sighed and sank back against the wall, “I just want to go to high school.” 

Peter sighed and looked at Stiles, “You’ve been quiet.” 

Stiles smirked, “I know a group of rag tag teenage werewolves and supernaturals who somehow managed to stumble their way through normal human high school just fine.” He smiled, flicking his eyes to Lydia and Jackson, and then Allison and Isaac, “None of us knew what we were getting ourselves into, and somehow we made it through it mostly intact.” He shrugged, glancing at Orion, “Let him go, Peter. It’s what he wants. I know that he’s your son and your world, believe me, I get that, but we aren’t going to be here forever. And they deserve to build a life of their own. We have to let them go.”

Orion’s grin grew wide, though he tried to cover it with a hand. He knew going to Uncle Stiles was the right call.


	3. Orion Hale: Drama King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion absolutely regrets every single one of his choices when he realizes that in fact, him and his cousins will be attending
> 
> drumroll please
> 
> Beacon Hills High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen.
> 
> Peter Hale is (possibly aside from Stiles) the most dramatic, sassiest person in Teen Wolf Canon. 
> 
> As such, clearly, his son needs to be a drama nerd, right?

When Orion had spoken with Uncle Stiles, he’d specifically explained that he wanted to go to Sacramento Central High School to complete his junior and senior years. He remembers distinctly being very specific about that request, which explains about half of the mood he was in when the alpha had announced that the entire pack was moving to Beacon Hills. It wasn’t wholly unexpected – Orion was far from stupid, he’d overheard talk of plans for a small complex of houses on the Hale land in Beacon Hills, he just hadn’t expected it to happen before he finished high school.

Unfortunately, it also meant that Orion would not, in fact, be going to Sacramento Central High School, but instead, the first day of school for the fall term, he’d pulled into the parking lot (Arianna and Selene in tow) of Beacon Hills High School. 

The reasoning the alphas and his father had given him was clear; Beacon Hills was smaller, better warded, and that, in turn, meant that the risks that went with potentially exposing the supernatural world were significantly reduced. 

Orion hated how much sense it made, overall. 

Hated it a lot more when he saw Selene dart fearlessly out of the car without saying a word, only to fall into step next to a familiar head of shaggy dark hair, and Orion had to focus to keep his lip from curling. Arianna had snorted from the passenger seat, threw a roll of her eyes Orion’s way, and stepped out of the car, headed inside the building with the kind of confidence and predatory grace that she’d inherited from her parents. 

This whole thing had been Orion’s idea, the girls had just benefitted from it, and yet here he was, nervous to get out of the car, nervous to go in and find his seat in homeroom, nervous to talk to anyone who wasn’t his pack. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, he finally reached for his backpack and climbed out of the car, bracing himself against the onslaught of scents that came with a human high school. He was careful to keep himself in check, keep a background amount of power feeding into the glamour rune that was stitched into the hem of his underwear.

He’d laughed at first when Uncle Stiles had suggested it as a location, but, Stiles had explained that high schoolers were _the worst_ and that if it was a necklace, or a bracelet, he’d have to remove it for any kind of gym class, but this way, outside of swimming, he’d never really need to be without his boxers, so it was a safe place for the rune to be. 

Again, Orion hated how much sense it had made, and had insisted on stitching the rune himself, rather than hand his uncle a pile of underwear. (Stiles had, of course, insisted on checking them anyway, to Orion’s horror.)

He tried to keep focused on the scents he did know; Selene and the McCall boy, Arianna, but even then, they faded out as Orion made it into his homeroom, dropping into a desk towards the back of the classroom, pulling out a notebook and a pen, and then sitting back, trying to get the air of ‘I don’t care, fuck you’ that his father exuded without trying. 

Students filtered in, some had already been there, but it didn’t escape Orion’s notice that the seats on either side of him were still empty. He unconsciously checked his glamour, but it was definitely still up, maybe the humans just knew a predator was in their midst? He was ten seconds down the rabbit hole that inevitably led to calling one of the adults and telling them that this had been a terrible mistake when the seat next to him was suddenly occupied by a person with a swath of blonde hair that blocked their face, but once it was moved, revealed a pair of warm brown eyes and a wide smile, “You’re new!” 

Orion fought not to recoil, “Yeah.” He said, kicking himself mentally. 

“Welcome to Beacon Hills!” She held out her hand, “I’m Maisie Halloway. I think we’re locker neighbors, if you’re who I think you are.” 

Orion shook the hand cautiously, “Who do you think I am?” He asked, on edge.

“Well, there are two people with the last name of Hale joining the high school, and only one of them is a junior. So, unless you’re in the wrong classroom, that probably makes you Orion, and Hale is alphabetically right before Halloway, so seeing as the lockers are arranged alphabetically, you’re going to be right next to me!”

The girl had enough energy to put Selene and Uncle Stiles to shame, and that was saying something. “How do you know there are two Hales joining the school?” 

Maisie blushed, looking down at her desk for a moment, “I uh…my mom’s the secretary for the principal.” She said, eyes still downcast, “So, sometimes, I use her computer to look stuff up, especially at the beginning of the school year. New kids are kind of rare around here. Everyone seems to always know everyone somehow.” 

Orion raised an eyebrow, “So, you’re the one to go to if I need information on anyone.” He said with a smirk.

Maisie raised her head, turning to look at him, meeting his smirk with one of her own, “I mean, I guess.” She shrugged one shoulder, leaning back in her chair, eyes forward, “Don’t know why you’d need information about other students though. Are you some kind of super villain?” 

“I don’t need information.” Orion said, leaning back in his own chair, “Yet.” 

The teacher chose that moment to take role, and so the pair fell silent as names were called, a few pricking the back of Orion’s memory as names he may have heard mentioned somewhere. He had to bite back a gasp when he heard the teacher ask for ‘Felicia Monroe’ and filed that away to mention to his father and Uncle Stiles at some point. If this girl was related to the Tamora Monroe of the stories in the past. Hunters weren’t the danger they used to be, but they were still dangerous. 

Once class was over, Maisie leaned over, “Lemme see your schedule.”

“You don’t already have it?” Orion teased, before tugging it out of his notebook and passing it over. 

“We have Economics together, that’s probably good, Mr. Finstock can be a little senile from time to time. English, History, and the same lunch period.” She handed the schedule back, “What extra curriculars are you going to do? You look like you’d be good at sports.” 

Orion laughed, “I’m not allowed to do sports. Maybe track, but my parents think sports are going to ‘detract from my education’.” Okay so that wasn’t at all what they’d said but it was close enough and it sounded like something his dad would say, “I was thinking about joining the school paper.” 

Maisie studied him, “I have a better idea.” She grinned and passed him a flier. “We always need more boys.”

Orion looked down at the paper and laughed, looking up, “Are you serious? The drama club?” 

Maisie gave him a bright smile and her happiness kind of smelled like peanut butter cookies to Orion , “You could at least come to the first meeting, help us discuss what plays to do, maybe you can work Crew if you don’t want to be on stage.” She leaned over, “Are you crowd shy, Orion Hale?” It sounded like a challenge.

Orion sat back, the running commentary in the back of his head reminding him that he was in fact the grandson of the Queen of the Elves, and he was, in fact, in this moment, acting like a human. He met her gaze with his own and rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll come to the meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maisie is my homage to Erica, may she Rest In Peace.
> 
> I didn't want any more random resurrections, seeing as I (TDC spoilers) already killed and brought Peter back, but you'd better believe that all my dead faves are coming back in some way.


	4. Arianna Whittemore Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianna Whittemore Martin has a secret. 
> 
> She's never going to be her mother. 
> 
> and that terrifies her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. I'm the "smart child" and I've had a lifetime of my brother being compared to me and having a complex about it.
> 
> Imagine your mother being Lydia Martin, and you're anything other than perfect? A nightmare.
> 
> Well, here's my take on it.
> 
> with a side of my interpretation of how werewolf-ness affects the human brain. 
> 
> disclaimer; I'm not dyscalculia or dyslexic, but I have other brain shit that makes me feel broken/different/terrible, usually.
> 
> also, two in one day thanks to the Corona Virus Quarantine, don't get too used to it lmao

Arianna Whittemore Martin has a secret. 

It’s a secret she’s kept for essentially as long as she’s been alive, it’s a secret that she has only ever told a few people, people she knew she could trust completely with the secret. It’s a secret that she spends most of her time hiding because no one, especially not her multiple-PhD’d mother and her fancy lawyer father can know about. It’s the imperfection she was born with, that she doesn’t talk about. Not in front of the people in her pack that seem to always have their shit together, seem to rule the entire world from the living room of the new, main pack house. 

Arianna was dyslexic and dyscalculic. Numbers and word, anything that wasn’t a picture, jumped off the page and jumbled together and it took every ounce of energy for her to be able to read anything at all. She struggled most days to even open her locker. Math was a nightmare. Music was easier, the little notes guided along the staff lines, and art was the best, art was where Arianna knew she could shine.

If it wasn’t also the nerdiest thing imaginable. 

Now, it wasn’t that anyone in the family had ever made fun of her, they’d really not even known there was something to make fun of, and her artwork had been praised from her first crayon drawing at two, but she just knew that the moment her mom and dad found out, they’d hate her. Lydia Martin had PhDs in pure and applied mathematics, ran a financial firm with Alpha Derek, and was generally the smartest person Arianna had ever met. Her father was now the District Attorney for Beacon County, and was well known for his wordcraft and verbal arguments So, as soon as she realized there was something different about her,she’d kept it a secret, and she’d intended to continue keeping it a secret as she transitioned to Beacon Hills High.

But here, she couldn’t use an auditory retention crystal instead of taking notes. She couldn’t lean over and ask Helen, her best friend, a witch, to spell her books to quietly read to her. She couldn’t talk to Gavin, who was a mage, and have him walk her through math problems using conjured images in place of variables and numbers that didn’t make sense in her brain. The only person in the pack that knew was Uncle Stiles, who had found out when Arianna was ten, and he was sworn to secrecy. She’d tried, really, really tried to just push through, but it was exhausting. And now that she was old enough to research, she knew that she’d probably ruined her chances of it ever getting better because she hadn’t asked for help when she was younger.

So, two months into her sophomore year of high school at Beacon Hills High, she was sitting in the Principal’s office between her mother and father, staring down at grades that were undoubtedly an embarrassment to the Whittemore Martin family. 

“… and so, we’re genuinely concerned about you, Arianna.” The principal finished, “Your grades at the academy were stellar, and all of your teachers say you’re very engaged in classes, your art teacher and your cheerleading coach can’t speak highly enough about you, but your grades in all of your other classes are concerning. So, Mrs. –”

“Dr.” Lydia corrected with a sharp smile. 

“Dr. Whittemore Martin and DA Whittemore, I called this meeting to discuss options moving forward. We have tutors available, as well as additional support that Arianna might need to help her succeed.” 

Lydia nodded, “Principal Walters, could you give us a few minutes to talk to Ari?” 

The principal nodded, “I’ll step out for just a moment. Feel free to grab me when you’re ready.”

Once the woman was out of the room, Lydia turned her calculating eyes onto her daughter. “Is there something you want to talk about, Arianna Natalie?”

“Lydia…” Jackson said softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Whatever it is, we can work through it.”

“You can’t work through the fact that I’m broken.” Arianna said softly, miserably. “You can’t walk through the fact that my brain doesn’t work and I’m never going to be you or mom.” She curled in on herself, “I want Uncle Stiles.” She muttered low enough that had either of her parents been human, they might have missed it. 

“Does Stiles know about whatever it is?” Lydia asked, her voice dangerously soft.

“I made him swear.” Arianna said, “I made him promise not to tell you. He’s the emissary, he’s … it’s his job to keep this stuff a secret.” She stared at the principals desk, “I didn’t want anyone to think I was a burden to the pack.” 

Jackson gave Lydia a look, “Lyds, why don’t you go talk to Stiles, and I’ll finish up the meeting with Principal Walters. We can all talk tonight.” 

“I’m not leaving—”

“Lydia.” Jackson said, a rare moment of defiance, “Please?”

Lydia studied her husband and daughter before nodding, climbing to her feet and grabbing her bag, “We are going to talk about this, Arianna.” She said, “I love you no matter what, okay?” She kissed the top of Ari’s blond head and leaned over to kiss Jackson’s cheek before leaving, sending the principal back in. 

Once she was settled, Jackson wrapped an arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “Can you give us a few days to discuss this with the rest of the family? It appears this is an ongoing issue that Arianna has been discussing with one of my good friends – Sheriff Stilinski-Hale. We need to discuss it in depth before deciding the best way to proceed. I think it’s best if Arianna finishes her day as normal.”

The principal gave Jackson a much wider smile, leaning over her desk in a way that made Arianna want to gag, “Certainly, DA Whittemore. Please keep me apprised of the situation.”  
It clearly didn’t impress her father either, who kept his eyes carefully trained on the principal’s face. “Great.” He stood up and turned, motioning with his head for Arianna to follow. When they were outside the office, he tugged her into a hug, her head resting against his chest, trying to resist the little sobs that threatened in her chest from her big secret coming out. “Listen to me Arianna.” He said, so softly that only werewolves would have been able to hear, “You’re my daughter. I am going to love you no matter what, and you are not broken, you’re not a burden to the pack. You’re unique and important.” Jackson kissed the top of his daughters head, “Go back to class, sweetheart, Mom will talk it out with Stiles and then tonight we can all talk.” 

Arianna looked up, eyes carefully tear-free. “Okay, Dad.” She gave him a fierce nod and a half-hearted smirk. 

Jackson squeezed the back of her neck another time and departed from the school. Arianna checked the clock, decided against making it to the last ten minutes of homeroom, and instead headed towards the art room, which she knew would be empty for the period. She curled herself into a ball in the corner, wished that she had magic like Orion or Selene, and let herself cry. Today was the last day of being normal, after today, the family would know her secret and treat her different, her mother would stop loving her because she wasn’t a brilliant, perfect genius, and she’d be all alone. 

She pulled herself together when the bell rang, werewolf healing the only reason that her eyes weren’t red and puffy, and wandered towards her locker, opening it on the fifth try of the combination lock with a muttered curse, and, lost in her own thoughts, slammed it shut and turned around only to run directly into the back of an upperclassman talking to someone next to her locker. “Sorry.” She whispered, moving away as quickly as she could. 

“Hey, wait.” Arianna bit her bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed before she turned around, looking up at the tall, imposing figure of senior lacrosse captain Max Harlow. His pale brown hair was touseled and curled on top of his head, and he wore a white T-shirt under his letterman jacket. “Are you okay?” 

Arianna crinkled her eyebrows, “Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, trying find the confidence that had been shaken by the conversation with her parents. It was hard to ignore that one of the most popular – and most attractive – guys in school had singled out her for a conversation. 

Max shrugged, “I was looking for you in your homeroom.” He said, “You weren’t there.”

“Why were you looking for me?” Arianna said, cocking her head, wishing they weren’t in the middle of a crowded hallway so she could get a scent read on him. “Kind of creepy.” 

Max grinned, “Just wanted to make sure you knew that you were invited to the party this weekend. After the game, if you wanted to come. It’s the first one of the season, wanted to make sure that you knew about it, new girl.” He winked and turned to walk towards his next class.  
Arianna shook herself out of her confused stupor as the next bell rang, and she headed towards her next class. She wasn’t stupid, she knew what it meant for the captain of the lacrosse team to extend a personal invitation to the lacross afterparty. She wasn’t blind, she’d read books, watched TV shows. She knew that objectively, she was attractive, she was a cheerleader, she had her father’s gently waving honey blond hair and her mother’s delicate green eyes and full lips. 

She was also, in literal hours, about to become the disappointment of her entire pack. Orion and Selene were going to laugh at her. Her parents were going to hate her. The alpha was going to give one of those disappointed and concerned scowls, and Uncle Peter… she shuddered to think what he’d say when he learned that she struggled with reading of all things, something he’d been teaching all the pack children practically since birth. Having somene to lean on through these hard times might not be so bad. 

So, as she settled into her seat for a history lecture that she’d get nothing out of, she smirked, and began plotting how, by December, she’d be Max Harlow’s winter formal date. 

\--

“STILES.” 

Stiles leaned back against the desk of the deputy he had been discussing things with, and Grant had looked across the room at Stiles with raised eyebrows. Lydia stood in the doorway of the Sheriff’s office, dressed to the nines, eyes fixed on Stiles’ person with enough vehemence that Stiles unconsciously activated a defensive rune. “Good morning to you too, Lydia.” 

“Your office. Now.” She said, storming into the office. 

Stiles frowned, and rapidly tried to cycle through the possible reasons he would have an incredibly pissed off Lydia Whittemore Martin in his office at 8:30 in the morning, found nothing, and wandered in behind her, closing the door and flicking the soundproofing rune active. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Arianna is failing four of her classes.” Lydia said, sitting in one of the guest chairs in the office, her hands folded, “Failing, Stiles, and she never even told me she was having trouble, One of them is her math class. My daughter is failing math. And what does she tell me as an explanation? That she’s broken, and that she didn’t want to talk to me about it, she wanted to talk to you.” 

Ah. This converstation. Stiles rested against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, “So, you know how you’re essentially the smartest person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of people?” Stiles said, “Your daughter has been essentially introduced to the fact that you are academic perfection personified from the moment she could walk. You got most of your second PhD with her strapped to a baby carrier on your chest. So, she’s intimidated by you. Like, really intimidated by you, and I can’t exactly blame her—”

“Stiles, what is wrong with my daughter?” Lydia said, looking up at him. “And why didn’t she just tell me?” 

“Arianna struggles with reading, both letters and numbers.” Stiles said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I found out when she was ten. Do you know how intimidating it is when a ten-year-old wants you to swear a vow in the Olde Tongue to keep her secret? That’s how badly she was afraid of you finding out, Lyds.” Stiles let his hands drop, “She told me that she had ways to work around it, and swore that she wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t going to be a burden—”

“Burden.” Lydia scoffed, staring at the wall, “My daughter thinks she’s a burden to the pack.” A little sob caught in the back of Lydia’s throat, “Stiles, I had my head drilled open and nearly killed all of you. I was locked, catatonic, in Eichen House for months, and you had to break in to get me out. I was actually a burden on my pack and my daughter thinks that because of a learning disability that she’s a burden?” Tears spilled over, “How did I fail this badly as a mother?” 

Stiles shook his head and dropped into the chair next to Lydia, wrapping her into his arms and tugging her gently against his chest, “Lyds, you didn’t fail. You haven’t failed. Maybe I’m the one who failed because I kept her secret, but I keep a lot of secrets for the kids and it’s kind of important that they keep trusting me with these secrets because it’s how we’re going to prevent the next Kate Argent Situation from ever happening. You haven’t failed.”

“She didn’t tell me. She never asked for help, from me or Jackson. And Jackson has always been the more approachable parent—”

“You’re both terrifying, actually.” Stiles said, “But I happen to know for a fact that what Arianna fears the most was you knowing that she wasn’t this perfect, prodigy child that you’ve always touted her as. I suspect the methods she was using at the Academy to work through her weaknesses was magical. That’s probably how she was able to keep a handle on it this far. And the fact that she’s fifteen and until now I’m the only one that figured it out, it says a lot about your daughter, Lyds.” 

“I just…” Lydia sat back, blinking, “I love her so much, Stiles. She’s my baby, she’s my child, and she hid this from me because she’s afraid of me? What does that say about me as a mother?” 

“Listen.” Stiles said, “Ari knows you love her. She knows you and Jackson love her, and that you’re always going to. She’s not afraid of you as a person, she’s afraid of disappointing you, it’s the same thing every kid is afraid of. She’s just got a bit more at stake because of who you are, and who Jackson is. Brilliant, gorgeous, accomplished, confident. Arianna has been working her ass of her whole life to meet a standard she believes you’re holding her to.”

“How do I fix this? How do I help her, Stiles?” Lydia ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

Stiles sat back, “Well, so, if she was human, therapies can essentially rewire the brain to work in a more ‘normal’ way, but they usually work better for younger kids. She’s a werewolf though, so her brain is sort of…. physiologically set. She can obviously learn and grow and create new connections, but her brain is sort of fixed, especially now. If she was human, it’s possible that becoming a werewolf could rewire the connections, like it did for Erica’s epiliepsy back in the day. But, even as a werewolf, Isaac still has anxiety, so it’s clear it doesn’t fix every neurological disorder.

“Our best bet is to see if there’s a human technological equivalent to the kind of magics she was using at the Academy to make it work. Clearly, she’d found methods that got her through to her freshman year of high school without even showing signs of her disability. So, we work with her to find a techological way to make it happen, and if that fails, I’ll figure out a discrete way for her to us magic in a mundane high school.” Stiles sighed, “Simple.” He muttered. 

Lydia nodded, “Do you wonder if becoming a werewolf would have fixed your ADHD?” She asked.

Stiles looked up at her with a grin, “When I was in high school, every day.” He patted her knee, “Now I’m pretty sure it’s the reason I’m as good as I am at my job.”

Lydia stood up, brushing wrinkles out of her suit, “We can all talk tonight, right? We’ll hang out at the main house after dinner, maybe have Atlas distract Morgan for a bit. I just…” She sighed, “I love my daughters, Stiles. I just want them to be happy.” 

Stiles nodded, “I know you do, Lyds.” 

\--

Arianna swallowed hard as she looked around the small sitting room that she, her parents, and Uncle Stiles were seated around. “I’m sorry I lied.” She whispered, feeling small again.

Her mother sat forward, taking a long breath, “When I was your age, the only person who knew I was smart was Stiles.” She said softly, “I was pretending not to be, pretending to be the ditzy girl, dating your dad, wanting to be nothing more than the queen bee of the school. I got bitten by Peter, and my banshee powers manifested and I was a disaster, and I was a burden to the pack. And then your dad got bitten by Derek, and he turned into a kanima, we’ve talked about that, you remember?” Arianna nodded, “When your dad was a kanima, that was a burden to the pack. The next year, when I spent three months in an insane asylum under lockdown because I was losing my mind? That’s me being a burden to the pack.” 

Arianna’s breath hitched, “I don’t want to be a b—”

“Stop.” Lydia said, but there was no heat, “Listen to me. You are NOT a burden to this pack. You are NOT broken, there is NOTHING wrong with you. Do you hear me?”

Tears fell from Arianna’s eyes. What? How could that even be possible. “I don’t…I can’t read, mom. I can’t do math. I’m useless.” 

“Aunt Allison nearly failed economics our junior year. I’m pretty sure without me, Alpha McCall wouldn’t have made it through Senior year. There is a difference, Ari, between needing help and being a burden, or being useless.” Lydia took one of Arianna’s hands in both of her own, “I know that having me as a mom couldn’t have been easy, but you’re my daughter, baby. I want to be here for you, I want to help you through this.” 

Arianna tried to focus on her mom through blurred eyes, “You don’t hate me?” 

Tears spilled from Lydia’s eyes as she shook her head, “No, baby, I don’t. I could never. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just different. You’re still a Whittemore Martin, you’re still going to rule the world one day, you’re just going to do it your own way.” 

“I hate math.” Arianna whispered, eyes on the couch.

Her father snorted from where he was perched on the other couch with Uncle Stiles, “So do I, so do most people.” He sat forward, “I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell us you were struggling, Arianna. I’m sorry that you felt like you had to hide it. I’m glad you told Stiles, and that you had people who were there for you at the Academy. I’m sorry that you felt like we were going to hate you because you have trouble with this.” Jackson had to reach up to wipe a tear from his own eye, “But your mom and I, and the pack, we want to help you, however we can, okay? If that means tutors or alternative ways of reading things, even if it means magic.” Jackson nodded his head towards Uncle Stiles, who gave her a wink and a grin. “We’re here to support you, no matter what.” 

Ari nodded, curling her head on to her mom’s shoulder, trying to internalize the fact that maybe her pack didn’t hate her, weren’t going to think less of her for this. It seemed like a dream. She glanced down at her hands to count her fingers and then looked back up. “Okay.” She said softly. She sat up straight again wiping the tears from her eyes, “You guys are 100% committed to making me feel better, right?” Lydia eyed her daughter critically, and Jackson nodded, “So there’s a party on Friday….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max is based on Brett Talbot. Brett and Lori were really fuckin' cool characters who got BONED by Teen Wolf and I'm mad about it. Max has a little sister who is definitely going to be a part of Selene's little friend group, who we'll probably meet in the next high school edition of this little spin off world.
> 
> I think, though, we need to meet some of the little guys, because I still haven't described Atlas Hale at all and he's probably my favorite of the kids and he's going to be really really important in the eventual future.


	5. Atlas Hale: Wolf in his Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlas Hale, the son of Alpha Derek Hale, has been human his whole life.
> 
> He also walks in the dreamspace, between sleeping and waking, conversing with the dead and nearly departed.
> 
> In life, he speaks infrequently, but with a weight that wolves tremble beneath when they know how to listen.
> 
> The woman on the tree has told him that one day, he'll be a wolf, and one day, she'll give him a gift.
> 
> Atlas would really like his gift now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is the last one for today I swear but it was BEGGING me to be written.
> 
> At the end of The Distress Call, there was a bit about how Selene was somehow able to commune with Claudia Stilinski, and I imagine at some point that that's going to come back up.
> 
> I've teased before that somehow, Atlas was human, despite the fact that Derek, as a born, alpha werewolf, would have been really unlikely to have a human child, even with a human. 
> 
> So, here's the story of Atlas Hale. It's a bit jumpy, time skips around a bit. There's some sad bits, but I just really love this tiny quiet loving, inquisitive, nurturing child who is everything Derek would have been if he hadn't had his family ripped away tragically at a young age.

_Atlas_

_Atlas!_

_ATLAS!_

_Blinking his eyes open, the young boy sat up and cocked his head to the side, listening for the voice that had called his name over and over. It sounded familiar and distant, known and unknown, friend and enemy. Like many of the voices, it called to him, and so, in the dreamspace he’d walked since he was three, he climbed out of bed and wandered out the door._

_In the dreamspace, his dad and daddy never woke up, and Selene never even stirred from her room across the hall from his. Even now, when they lived in a new, big house nestled in the woods, the dreamspace looked like the complex back in Sacramento, where he’d spent the first ten years of his life._

_Atlas wandered outside, through doors that should have stayed locked, that had been spelled to prevent sleepwalking, actually, and moved towards grass. The dreamspace had adapted the outside, had changed to look like the preserve, to reflect the other small houses that were scattered on the land around from the big house. Atlas walked, listening to a voice crooning his name over and over, the ground solid, but neutral beneath his feet, even as the early October winds should have made him cold._

_Atlas. Little Hale. Come to me, my dear one._

_Atlas walked, through trees, past animals that didn’t even look his way, through the quiet, muted colors of the dreamspace forest, until he came to stop in a clearing, staring at a woman sitting crosslegged on a wide tree stump. The Nemton, Atlas remembered, from daddy’s stories. The woman had long dark hair and chocolate brown eyes, her skin was softly tanned. Atlas studied the lines etched into her face, tried to memorize them. He wondered if things smelled right in dreamspace, he wasn’t a wolf, he didn’t know, didn’t smell things like the werewolves did, or even like Orion and Olivia could, as elves._

_“You’re brave tonight, little wolf, to have come this far by yourself. You’ve never made it all the way here before.”_

_Atlas looked around at the trees and then settled his eyes back on the woman, giving a small shrug._

_The woman smiled, “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you. Your father was like that when he was little. Quiet, kind, watching the world. He had a rebellious streak a mile wide when he got to high school.”_

_“I’m not a wolf.” Atlas said, meeting the woman’s chocolate gaze with his own. He had his mother’s eyes, he’d been told a hundred times, Aunt Allison’s eyes._

_The woman on the tree smiled, “You will be, my dear one. You’re a wolf in your soul. When the time comes, when you need it, you’ll be a wolf in every way.”  
“How do you know?” _

_Her smile widened, “Do you know who I am, little Hale?”_

_Atlas studied her, looked at the forest around, “Are you dead?” He asked, “Not everyone I talk to is dead. Sometimes they’re just dreaming. Like Grandpa Chris when he was sick in the hospital. He was dreaming, but we talked here, in dreamspace.”_

_“I’ve been dead a long time, Atlas.” The woman said, uncurling her limbs from beneath her, her flowing dress blowing in the wind he hadn’t noticed had picked up. “I’ve overstayed my welcome. Ask your father, or your aunt, or Uncle Peter to tell you stories of their alpha.” The woman flashed ghostly, barely-red eyes at him, “When you see me again, my dear one, you’ll know who I am.”_

The forest chipped away, blowing around in the wind like a pile of leaves, spinning, until Atlas slipped back into unconsciousness, and he did not wake until the next morning, when his dad knocked on the door, “C’mon Atlas, you slept in again.” 

Atlas sat up, rubbing at his eyes, reaching for the journal in his nightstand, scratching at the notebook, _Alpha before dad_ followed by the days date, and tucked it away, for safe keeping, hurrying to get dressed before he made everyone else late for school too. 

\--

After school found him hanging back near the car as the other kids, picked up from the Academy by Uncle Peter, hurried inside for snacks or to get started on homework. “Uncle Peter.” Atlas asked, his voice soft, but, to the ears of those who knew how to listen, underlaid with a power that commanded attention. 

Peter was one such man. He turned towards the youngest of Derek and Stiles’ children, his great-nephew in the family tree, but just another of the pack’s children in treatment. “Yes, Atlas?” He’d always been such a curious child, born from an alpha and yet human in body and blood, quiet, reserved, always listening, and yet speaking with a voice that drew you in, made you want to listen, made you want to kneel, at times.

“Who was the alpha before dad?” Atlas asked, his hands folded in front of him, dark hair askew over his forehead, brown eyes full of an inquisitive fire.

Peter considered the question. Techically, the spark that Derek now held was not the original Hale pack spark, handed down through generations, corrupted by him at the height of his madness, passed to Derek and used to heal Cora. So, there were several correct answers to the question, but many of them were irrelevant – McCall, Himself, Laura, alphas, but not the alpha. “Your grandmother, Talia Hale.” 

“What did she look like?” Atlas asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Will you tell me about her?”

Latent grief tugged at Peter. There was a part of him, deeply buried, covered in years of familial bonds and pack bonds, the love of his mate and his children, that would never stop mourning the loss of the family that had died in the fire nearly thirty years ago. Peter – thankful, of course, that he’d gotten a second, and third chance to live – questioned how he had managed to overcome death twice, wondering how many souls in the fire had been sacrifices to keep him walking the earth long enough to be here. And there was a weight, something deep in Atlas’ voice that made Peter wonder if he had been kept alive all these years to answer these questions in particular. “Let’s go up to my study, I think I have some pictures somewhere. I’ll answer every question I can about her.”

\--

_The next time Atlas sees Talia Hale in the dreamspace, he’s fifteen, and it’s the night of his Grandpa John’s funeral. He feels like he knows her, from Peter’s stories, and the ones he’s gotten out of his dad and Aunt Cora, and so following something like instinct, he launches himself onto the tree trunk and folds his too-long limbs into her lap, and she cradles him like he’s five years old and whispers into his ear soothingly. “You’ll see him again, wolf child.” She said softly, “You, more than anyone, will see him again. You’ll visit him here, in the dreamspace.”_

_“But my dads cant, and Selene can’t. They’re so sad. Everyone is so sad.” Atlas sighed and rested his head on the dead Alpha’s shoulders, “They’re dead and what if I can’t find him in dreamspace because he’s not….” He choked on his words, “He’s not really my grandpa.”_

_Talia shh’d him and wrapped strong, firm arms around him, “Wolf child, John Stilinski is your grandpa in every way that counts. If you can’t find him, I’m sure Claudia will help him find you. You walk these woods with the surest feet I’ve ever seen. If anyone can find him, it’s you, my dear one.”_

_Atlas tried to be comforted by her words, “I’m still not a wolf, Grandma Talia, but you keep calling me one.”_

_The woman smiled brightly at the honorific, kissing the young one’s forehead, “Soon. The time will come and a wolf you will become. And when you do, when you come back and see me as a wolf, I have a gift for you. From me and all the Hale’s that came before you.”_

_“Can I meet them?” Atlas asked, sitting up a little straighter, “Dad has told me stories, about Aunt Laura, and Grandpa Geoffrey, and all the others.”_

_Talia gave her grandson a small smile, “It takes a lot of effort, my dear one, to be here with you like this. Traveling through dreamspace the way you do, walking like it’s easy, isn’t something many can do. When you need them, they’ll be here with you.” Talia rested a hand over the teenager’s heart, “But any other time, if you need to call on them, you need only to remember that all of us live here. In your soul.”_

\--

It turns out, as things do when people in the dreamspace give him warnings, that his long dead grandmother’s prediction about him becoming a wolf ‘soon’ would come true. It happens in a blur for Atlas, one moment he’s contentedly walking with Olivia and Laura back to their houses from school, and the next, he’s splayed out on the ground, pain and fire burning in his gut, with Laura crying over him and Olivia crouched near them, all tucked inside a neat shield held by the elf. 

He’s getting cold, so cold, and he wants to close his eyes, but Laura wont let him, keeps howling and yipping and trying to get someone, anyone to help them, to hear them. Olivia is holding her shield as the hunters move in closer, and Olivia is sweating with the effort, her glamour falling to give her more power to throw into the shield. Laura’s hands are pressed into his stomach, staunching the bleeding and pulling pain, while her tears fall against his chest. 

Atlas wants to open his mouth to tell her that he’ll be okay, that he’s not afraid of death, and that his grandpa John and grandma Talia will be there to show him how to walk the dreamspace back to his family, but his mouth wont form words. Instead, blood bubbles out of his mouth, painting his chin red and Laura’s tears fall harder. None of this felt right, none of it felt real, these woods they were home, they were safe, warded, protected.

The first person to arrive was Peter, beta shifted, shielded by Lupe who walked behind him, eyes burning silver with rage. It was logical, they had almost made it to the clearing where the houses were, so naturally, Lupe and Peter would have been the closest. Possibly close enough to hear the shots, definitely close enough to hear Laura’s howls for help. 

There’s a sharp crack through the air and suddenly, Atlas watches his dad appear out of thin air, brown eyes furious, taking out three of the hunters before they even fully acknowledge his presence. Uncle Lupe has moved in once he and Peter had cleared the hunters from the other side, taking Laura’s place as the young werewolf wraps Olivia in a tight hug, holding up her elf cousin as she sways from the emotions and the strain of holding a shield under attack for the precious moments she had. Peter prowls in a circle, on high alert. 

Stiles drops next to Atlas with tears in his eyes, his mouth whispering quiet words of healing, trying to put enough of the boy together to move him, get him to a hospital, get him somewhere safe. Laura lets out a cry as she sees her mom appear from the woods, dropping next to Atlas, gasping as she examines him, looking up at Stiles with eyes full of despair. 

There’s no warning before the next of their party joins them, the large black wolf, speckled with grey around his muzzle that Atlas knows is his father leaps over the humans, landing between Atlas’ splayed legs, shifting back to human with terrified red eyes. He looks at Stiles and then Cora, tears slipping out of his eyes, “Atlas.” His dad said, his voice thick with emotion, “Do you want to be a werewolf or not, you have to decide now.” He swallows hard, “I don’t think you have much time.” 

Atlas tries to draw in a breath to answer and chokes on blood again, but he’s able to nod, meeting his father’s eyes with defiant, albeit tired brown eyes. Of course he wants to be a werewolf. He’s known since he was ten that this was coming, that one day, he’d be a wolf. That now, the next time he sees Talia in the dreamspace, she can give him his gift. 

There’s a smile on his lips as he feels the heat of his father’s fangs in his side, and he lets his eyes fall closed despite the cries of his aunt and his dad for him not to. He wishes his words worked, wishes his voice worked, wishes he could tell them that he was going to be okay, that he’d survive the change just fine. This was always supposed to happen, he wants to tell them, but he can’t.

_When he opens his eyes, he’s curled in the fetal position at the foot of the Nemeton. He moves to stand, to look around, only to find that even when he does, he doesn’t get much taller. He looks down to his feet, blinks dumbly when he sees paws. He looks up and the woman on the tree smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I see you’ve finally become a wolf.” She says._

_Atlas wants to answer, so, stubbornly, he focuses on having a human face, human lips to speak, and feels himself grown, his body shift, until he’s back on human feet again, “You didn’t tell me I was going to get shot.” He muttered, rolling his eyes._

_“There’s that rebellious streak I knew was coming.” Talia’s grin cracks wider, “You’re ready, young wolf.” She said softly, pressing up from her seated position to stand before him. She’s not very tall anymore, an inch or so shorter than he is, and she smiles up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and her hand against his bare chest. He feels his chest get warm, more than just the heat of her hand._

_He remembers suddenly that he’s a werewolf now, and draws in a long breath through his nose, smells the warm oak and undergrowth that is buried within Talia’s scent, smells the cotton of her dress. “Dreamspace has a smell.” He says, delighted._

_Talia nods solemnly, “I don’t know, my dear boy, when I’ll see you again now.” She said, and Atlas’ voice catches in his throat, “But you’re ready and you’re strong. Trust in your wolf, listen to your father. He can guide you to become the wolf you were always meant to be, the wolf you have always been in your soul.”_

_“If I need you?” Atlas asks, tears in his eyes even though he knows he’s too old for tears. He’s almost seventeen and he shouldn’t be crying all the time, but he feels like he’s barely known and always known Talia, and he just wants more time._

_“If you need me, you know I’ll be here, my dear one.” Talia said, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “Use your gift well, defend those you love and the land you stand on. Defend those who have no other protectors. Be fierce, be rutheless, but always be kind, my dear one.” She stepped away, and Atlas wanted to scream for the wind to stop, for the images to stay in place just a little longer._

When Atlas wakes, to his fathers sitting on either side of the makeshift hospital bed in the main pack house, they both gasp as his eyes open to reveal brilliant, alpha-red eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I brought up Noah/John's death. It was kind of inevitable. I figure, if Stiles was 10 when Claudia died, that would make him~35, so, when Selene is born I mention that it's been twenty years since John saw Claudia, so that makes him 55, and then Atlas is 5 years younger than Selene. So, he dies when Atlas is 15, making him like 75 which isn't that old, but for a man with a recorded history of high cholesterol and a really stressful life, it's probably an average life expectancy.
> 
> Also, I'm a sucker for angst. If you read TDC, you know that.


	6. A new Hale Pack rises.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlas is now an almost-17 year old newly turned alpha werewolf.
> 
> Derek has .... concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a legit note on my desk where I had to write out how the packs were going to break down. I also propose my own thoughts on True Alphas here, so, enjoy. 
> 
> I think this is probably going to wrap up soon because honestly, I don't want this to turn into another epic. 
> 
> I've got like eighteen other fics piling up in my head begging to be written, and an actual real life PhD I'm supposed to be working on ahahahahahah I'm a mess,

Derek was no stranger to terror. The first time he remembered truly feeling terrified, as a small child, he’d come across a rogue omega in the preserve while he was playing, alone. The man had been tall and terrifying and Derek had frozen like a deer. He could have died that day, an eight year old against an adult werewolf, if his father hadn’t come across them in that moment, destroying the rogue with extreme prejudice.

He’d watched his first love die an agonizing death from bite rejection. He’d watched his entire family, save a few, burn to death in a fire set by a hunter that he’d let into their lives. He’d been used, like a weapon, to murder one of his own betas. He’d dealt with living apart from his mate for almost five years, and all the stress that went along with that. His mate had been kidnapped and nearly died – twice. His children were a werewolf with the power of a Gajos mage and a human who told impossible stories of conversing with the dead in his dreams and spoke with a voice that sent a shiver down Derek’s spine. 

But few of these moments of sheer, unadulterated terror, would compare to Lydia, eyes wide and haunted, face solemn, walking into his office at three pm on a Thursday and telling him to run for the preserve, for the houses. To run, as fast as he could, and know that when he got there, he needed to bite his son. _He’s going to die, Derek, I can feel it._ Tears had spilled over her eyes, _Run._

After years of sharing a pack with the banshee, with the harbinger of death, he didn’t spare a moment to doubt, had shucked his jacket and ran for the door to the office, shedding clothes as he ran until he could finally shift onto four paws, slip into the trees and run as fast as he could, smelling the scent of his son’s blood from miles off, his heart pounding and frozen in place simultaneously. 

And so, almost twenty five years after he’d become an alpha, the result of a New York City barfight, he’d created his first beta, turned his first human, and it had been to save the life of his seventeen year old son. 

Except, when Atlas had woken the next day, his wounds neatly healed, his scent intensified with the scent of a werewolf living under his skin, and his eyes had opened, the bond he’d felt with his son, the familial bond that had existed for so long, shattered into pieces as red eyes met his own. And that pain, that fear, shook Derek to his core. Because suddenly, his son, his flesh and blood, was no longer in his pack, was an alpha with no pack, and yet, had blinked away the red eyes and sat up with his typical, warm smile, appearing, to an untrained eye, the same human teenager he’d been the day prior. 

Atlas’ explanation of how he’d come to have an alpha spark hadn’t really made anything better. Somehow, for the better part of the past 7 years, Atlas had been communing with his grandmother in what he called ‘dreamspace.’ He insisted that the spark had been a gift, that Talia had said it was from her and all the Hales that came before her. Stiles’ research, years prior, the first time Atlas had told him and Stiles about it at 6, had yielded the fact that it was in fact a separate plane of existence where the living and the dead could walk together, provided that all parties knew how to access it. 

Atlas had been walking in dreamspace since he was three. 

Atlas turned 17 the day after he’d become an alpha, and suddenly, what had been a seemingly simple family birthday party turned into a full-blown inter-pack meeting to discuss the future of the Hale Packs, and the Beacon Hills territory now that there were, in fact, three alphas in residence.

Hours before the meeting was set to start, Derek looked up to a knock on his doorframe to see the lean, pale form of Orion Hale leaning against it. He’d returned the day prior, partially to assist Stiles and Lupe with examining the wards after the incursion of unexpected hunters, but also for Atlas’ birthday. The elf-wolf gave Derek a sharp smile. “Alpha.” He said, bowing his head respectfully, and stepped inside to reveal the shorter, more olive-skinned form of Laura Thomas, who gave him a bright smile and also intoned, “Alpha.” With a tip of her head.

Oh, this was pack, not family. Derek sat up, “Orion. Laura.” He greeted with a tight smile.

Orion stepped forward, hands folded in front of him. “Alpha, I have to respectfully request that you release me from the bonds of pack. I have the utmost respect for you and our alpha-mate, and the rest of our family, but I feel that I belong elsewhere.”

Derek sat back against the chair, sighing. Losing Atlas had been a blow he hadn’t been expecting, to lose Orion too was torture. But, Orion was almost 25, had been an adult for years, had several degrees to his name, was well trained as both an elf and a werewolf, had all the training of either a formidable left hand or a powerful emissary. He was an asset to whatever pack he’d end up a part of. “Okay, if you’re sure.” Derek stood up, crossing the room towards Orion, but was stopped in his place by a soft clearing of a throat. 

Laura looked up at him with bright green eyes and smiled, “Alpha, I also request release from the pack bonds. I too feel that I am meant to serve a different pack.” Her cheeks colored as she glanced at Orion, who gave her a sharp nod. 

Derek stared at Cora’s eldest daughter. Laura was 16, a powerful werewolf, and a skilled fighter. She was competent both in hand-to-hand and was weapons trained by her lifetime-in-law-enforcement father. She was young, but had all of Cora’s independent strength and spirit. “School?” Derek asked, unable to form a more complex sentence at the idea of losing three of the kids at the same time. 

“The Alpha I’m joining has agreed to allow me to stay here until my education is complete.” Laura said, grinning at Orion conspiratorially. 

Derek nodded. He stepped close to each of them, pulling them into a tight hug before placing his hands on both of their throats, “Orion Hale and Laura Thomas, I release you from your allegiance to this pack, and wish you a lifetime of happiness.” He gave them both a small smile as their bonds to him faded into shimmering ghosts, similar to the way Faris’ bond had years ago. 

The two gave him a final hug and left his office together, leaving Derek leaning against his desk with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

Stiles appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, Derek still frozen against his desk. The emissary chuckled, “We felt the bonds go, you okay?” 

Derek drew his eyebrows together, “I just don’t….why are they leaving now? We just lost Atlas and now we’re down three wolves. ” 

Stiles blinked, “Oh. They didn’t tell you.” 

Derek’s gaze slipped from dumbfounded to annoyed, “Tell me what?” 

Stiles’ face grew into a wide smirk, “Oh no way. If they managed to get you to dissolve the bonds without telling you the name of the Alpha they’re joining, there’s no way I’m missing the look on your face when you find out who it is.” Stiles darted forward, leaning into Derek, pressing a kiss to his lips, “I promise it’s going to be okay.” He said softly, “Do you trust me?” 

Derek returned the kiss, his hands falling to Stiles’ waist, “With my life and beyond.” He murmured, nuzzling their cheeks together. 

\--

The truth of things, as they tended to, slammed into Derek like a freight train. 

The two packs – no, three packs – met in a clearing of the preserve in the vague vicinity of the Nemeton, even though it seemed that only Stiles, Gianna and Atlas ever knew exactly where the damn tree stump was. 

Gianna and Stiles led the processions into the clearing, both grinning widely at each other like they shared some kind of secret. Scott McCall had Malia to his immediate left, Liam to his right and Theo beside Malia, and was followed jovially by the rest of his pack. Derek walked into the clearing with Peter to his left and Cora to his right, and stopped, stunned, as he saw the third group walk into the clearing. 

Standing apart from both packs, with proud shoulders and a firm gaze, was his son, brown eyes bright in the afternoon light. To his left, smirking, was Orion Hale, arms crossed over his chest. To his right was Laura Thomas, green eyes flickering dangerously around the crowd, taking in the others in the clearing. 

Stiles had turned around, and laughed loudly at the look on Derek’s face, his face warm with affection. Cora’s laugh joined his and she gave her daughter an approving nod. Peter’s face melted from his typical stony gaze into a fond smile as he too tilted his head towards his son.

It was, quite jarringly, like looking into a mirror set to turn time back twenty five years. Atlas, with all the calm strength of an alpha quiet settled in his skin, flanked by a rutheless, cunning and intelligent left hand, and a warm, caring, strong, independent right hand. The only thing missing, of course, was the emissary, and Orion stepped forward to stand with Gianna and Stiles. “It’s temporary.” Orion said with a shrug, “Our emissary is also still in High School, in Reno. Zahra Vsevolod, a mage.”

Stiles looked past Orion to give Atlas a wide smile, “She’ll be great.” 

“So, other than congratulating Atlas, what exactly is the point of today?” Scott asked, shrugging one shoulder. 

Derek sighed, “Territory ceremony, and I was going to discuss who from our packs should consider joining his, so he wasn’t an omega Alpha, but it seems those decisions have been taken out of my hands.” 

“Technically you did let us go.” Laura said with a shrug, “You could have said no.” 

“I’m not actually sure I could have.” Derek said, eyes on Orion, whose face stayed perfectly passive as he studied his fingers. “But I’m glad I didn’t.” 

“Orion came to me first.” Atlas said, his voice soft but carrying through the clearing, “Told me that if I was going to be an alpha, I was going to need someone older to advise me and help keep my pack safe.” 

“A noble suggestion.” Peter said, amusement in his voice. 

“I certainly wasn’t going to be the left hand once Uncle Derek stepped down.” Orion said, venom in his voice. “Selene made that quite clear.”

Selene stepped around Derek with a growl in her throat, stalking towards Orion “Maybe you could have been if I could trust you not to kill my future right hand.” 

“Selene.” Derek and Atlas said simultaneously, the combined alpha voices shocking Selene into silence, if only for a moment, and stopping her approach.

“He tried to kill Dominic!” Selene said, eyes flashing gold as she glared.

“I thought he was hurting you!” Orion said, eyes blazing silver.

“He’s my best friend. And I can defend myself, Orion, I don’t need your help.”

“Future right hand?” Scott asked, diffusing the tension and cocking his head to the side, turning back to find his son amongst his pack.

Dominic stepped to his father’s shoulder, “Selene and I looked into it and Dad, I don’t think your alpha spark is going to go to me. True Alpha sparks are tied to the alpha they’re given to, they’re difficult to steal, and we’ve never found a record of a True Alpha passing their spark down genetically.”

“That’s actually also what my research showed, Scott.” Gianna said, “And I had some uh, external assistance on the matter with someone with even better contacts than mine.” She winked at Stiles who returned the wink.

Scott turned back to Dominic, “So, you’re planning to join Selene?” 

“When she ascends.” Dominic said, his voice sure, “I’ve agreed to stand as her right hand.” He shot Selene a smile across the clearing.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at Derek. “Can we get back to the program please. We’re not ready to step down yet, kiddos. Atlas jumped the gun.” He flicked his son a grin. “Alphas.”

Derek, Scott and Atlas moved forward, each standing beside their respective emissary. Stiles, as the highest ranking emissary, spoke softly, “Alphas Hale and McCall, as the current holders of the Beacon Hills-Sacramento Joint Territory, you have the final say in who resides on lands that bear your sigils.” 

Stiles squatted down in the dirt to draw the triskelion overlaid with a crescent moon that had been their sigil for many years. Gianna squatted to do the same, drawing the double cirlces of the McCall pack.

“Alphas, do you agree to allow Alpha Atlas Hale, and his pack, to settle in the lands you currently jointly hold, hold council with him and offer him a vote in territory matters?” 

“I do.” Derek said, flashing Atlas a smile as Scott repeated the phrase. 

“Acting Emissary Hale, please add your pack’s sigil to the land.” Stiles said, looking at Orion. 

Orion leaned over to Atlas, whispering something only he could here. The alpha turned and nodded, whispering something back. 

Orion dropped to a crouch, drawing a neat, simple, bare triskelion, the long held symbol of the Hales, before pressing back to standing. 

Stiles gave a small fond smile to his son, Derek swallowing harshly to hold back the emotions. Stiles spoke, “Alpha Atlas Hale, do you agree to become a protector of this territory, to seek council in the alphas before you, to guard the humans and supernatural beings who live within, and to defend the packs within with your very life?” 

“I do.” 

At Atlas’ words, the ground hardened, like the three pack sigils had been set with cement, and the small circle of earth that held them sank down until the ground beneath them was bare dirt again. 

Stiles stepped across the space to wrap his son in a tight hug, feeling Derek pull both of them close. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“Dad, we’re literally going back to the house. I’m not even moving out.” Atlas rolled his eyes but let his fathers embrace him. 

“Don’t we have a birthday party to get to.” Orion mused, rolling his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a side note, I had literally a whole ass chapter written that effectively laid out that Selene and Dominic were going to be lovers, but then it occurred to me that the familial connection ( because of Scott being with Malia) made that more incestuous than this particular verse could handle.
> 
> It made me rlly sad bc like of course Scott and Stiles' children would fall in love. But oh well, them being platonic besties is history repeating itself and I went a different direction with who I made 1) Selene's mate, and 2) Dominic's mate. So, stay tuned.
> 
> I've got like 3 more things that need to be written in this verse;
> 
> 1) Jump back in time to introduce Selene's pack of friends, including Dom McCall, and then a small jump forward into Selene introducing her mate to her family.
> 
> 2) Peter's funeral, Selene and Orion coming to grips/forgiving each other for like a decade and a half of anger, and Derek willing his spark to Selene so he and Stiles can step down as heads of the pack.
> 
> 3) Stiles' funeral (in the fairly distant future from everything that's been written so far) because honestly it just feels right to end this goddamn roller coaster with a chapter that will probably make me cry to write.


	7. Selene Hale vs Senior Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene Hale doesn't want to say that she's EXPECTING something to go wrong during her senior year.
> 
> but she totally is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is less cohesive than some of the others. 
> 
> First part is Hale/McCall pack kids being badasses who require remarkably little support from the adults.
> 
> Second part is a brief glimpse into the Selene/Orion fight that was mentioned in part 6.

Historically, for the Hale and McCall packs, Senior years tend to be…eventful. Orion’s senior year seemed to be relatively routine, at least, as routine as it could be for the valedictorian to also be the president of the drama club and debate clubs. Orion had made something of a scene about Max Harlow being named Prom King over him, but some very cutting remarks from Arianna, backed by Maisie, had readily shut that particular stream of complains down. 

Arianna’s Senior year had been exceptionally average. With Orion, Max, and Maisie all graduated and off at college, Arianna had been free to exist. Or well, would have been if suddenly the pack population at Beacon Hills High hadn’t expanded by a pair of cherubic twin hunters and a fiery, overconfident spark witch. The Lahey twins were fairly routine for Arianna to deal with (she mostly ignored them), but Caroline Raeken seemed to never know when to shut her mouth, and as such, Arianna ditched the pack lunch table for a table with the other cheerleaders, despite the vepid conversations about boys. Arianna couldn’t care less about the ‘boys’ that were left at the school, not when she was still in near-constant communication with Max.

So, naturally, after two reasonably calm senior years, Selene was expecting hers to go massively awry. She was, in fact, trying ot think her way through organizing a list of possible things to go wrong when her free period solitude was interrupted by her best friend dropping into the seat across from her at the table and putting his head in his hands with a muttered “Fuck.” 

Selene blinked twice and cocked her head to the side, “It’s the first day.” She said, amusement in her voice. 

Dominic looked up, brown eyes narrowed, “Elena.” He said with a long sigh.

Selene laughed, “Your little sister is a sweetheart. She’s just like your dad.” 

Dom rolled his eyes, “Yeah, exactly, and she’s also signed up for Soccer AND cross country and cheerleading, and the drama club and She’s going to throw a complete fit when Mom and Dad tell her she cannot do ALL of the activities.”

Selene reached across the table to pat one of Dominic’s hands, “The first year out of the Academy is always a transition. She’ll settle down with time. Anyway, do you have any ideas about things that go terribly wrong this year? I’m thinking since Orion and Ari both got relatively quiet senior years, clearly ours has to go terribly wrong at some point, I just can’t figure out which point? Where would we have the most trouble – before or after winter break? If it’s after, we’ll have already submitted college—”

“Selene, can we maybe not disaster plan on the first day?” Dom asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He leaned forward, “You’re a wolf mage, I’m a werewolf, we have the twins, Caroline, who is perfectly competent at magic, Orion’s fucking terrifying little sister – ”

“Olivia is nothing like Orion. Orion is Uncle Peter reincarnated with pointy ears. She’s a clone of Uncle Lupe, she’s not terrifying.”

“and my little Sister, who is a werecoyote.” Dominic shrugged, “Plus, We’re 80% sure that Felicia Monroe isn’t actually related to Tamora. So, literally what can go wrong?” 

Two months later, right in the middle of editing a college admissions essay, Selene found herself tied up with wolfsbane ropes in the basement of the school, glaring at Dominic, who was tied to the pillar across from his. “What could go wrong?” She said with a groan, “What could possibly go wrong? It’s not possible that Felicia Monroe could be the daughter of the hunter that threatened to run your dad out of town? Not possible.”  
“Okay so maybe we got a little hasty in assuming everything would be fine.” Dominic said, “You’re a mage, can’t you break the ropes?”

“Dominic Rafael McCall, I appreciate your faith in me, but I am still very much a werewolf.” Selene said through gritted teeth, “Forgive me for not wearing my goddamn offensive magic rune cuff while I was working on college essays.”

“Will you two shut the fuck up please?” Felicia Monroe stepped towards the pair of them brandishing a military-grade taser, “Do you know how long it’s taken me to figure out that you two are werewolves? I promised my mom that no, there were definitely not any werewolves at school, and then what do I see after school? The two of you walking towards the preserve, and Selene turns to Dominic and suddenly, wow, werewolf eyes.” 

Selene rolled her eyes, “Felicia, I don’t really care.” She said, staring at the hunter, “What do you want, because super villain monologues are so overdone, I should know, my dad has made me watch every Marvel and DC movie ever created. Get on with whatever you’re planning and quit whining.”

“How many other werewolves or supernaturals go to this school?” Felicia asked, stabbing the taser into Selene’s side, causing the wolf mage to grunt and set her jaw. “HOW MANY.” 

“Enough that this was a really, really bad idea.” Caroline Raeken said from behind Felicia, flanked by Tori and Alex. Further back, Olivia was crouched, eyes flared silver as she worked to remove the bindings on the werewolves. Elena was pacing closer to the door, eyes flashing gold as she occasionally stopped to listen for company. 

Had their senses not still been depressed from the wolfsbane powder that Felicia had used to take them down, they probably would have heard their “saviors” coming down the basement steps, but the Lahey twins were, in fact, well trained hunters, and they had two magic users and a werecoyote with them. They made for a formidable group. 

“All of you?” Felicia said, bewildered. 

“Nah, the twins are human. Technically, Caroline is human too.” Selene said, rubbing at her wrists once Olivia had severed her bindings. She lunged forward to restrain Felicia. The hunter struggled aimlessly in the grip of the werewolf. “So, which parent is going to be the most reasonable about this?” She asked, looking around the room. 

“Mom, definitely.” Tori said quickly, “Human, won’t get immediately shot by Tamora Monroe, perfectly capable of running them out of town.”

“Yeah, and when we get yelled at, she’ll be so nice we’ll barely be able to tell she’s mad at us.” Dominic said, rolling his eyes, “My dad would be perfectly reasonable.”

“No, Your dad would call my dad, who would be the opposite of reasonable.” Selene said, “Call her, Tori.”

Thirty minutes later, Allison Argent-Lahey was sitting on the steps to the school basement nodding at intervals while five high schoolers all tried to explain what had happened. She looked past them at Selene and Domnic, who were guarding their prisoner. “Great, It was a really well executed rescue.” She said with a dimpled smile, “Let me go talk to these two, okay?” She pushed up to standing and crossed the floor of the basement with her arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow cocked. “Dom, Selene, do you want to tell me how this happened?” 

Selene looked up, “Do I have to?”

Allison smirked, “You can tell me, or I can call the alpha.” 

Selene cocked her head, “Why would you call him?” 

Allison sighed, “Stiles needs plausible deniability, he can’t know what illegal activities you all get up to. So, I’d have to call Derek. Or, if you’d prefer, I can call Scott.”

“Dad would just call Stiles.” Dom said, rolling his eyes, “We didn’t do anything illegal.” 

Allison pointed to the young hunter between the two of them, bound with rope and duct tape. “Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“That is Felicia Monroe.” Selene said, “She kidnapped us first.” 

Allison blinked and then threw back her head and laughed. “Where did she kidnap you from?”

“The library.” Selene grumbled. 

The huntress sighed, “Okay, take off the bindings. Miss Monroe, do you know who I am?” 

Selene tore (probably harder than necessary) the tape from Felicia’s mouth. The hunter looked up, “You’re an Argent.” 

“I’m Allison Argent-Lahey.” Allison agreed, “And you attacked two young werewolves, for what reason, Miss Monroe? Do you have a code violation to recite to me, or was this an unprovoked attack?” 

Felicia’s eyebrows pulled together, “My mother says all werewolves are monsters. All supernaturals are monsters, they should all be destroyed. I was collecting information for my mother. I don’t answer to you.” 

Allison nodded, “Okay.” She hauled Felicia to her feet, “Selene, can you open the vault for me so I can take Miss Monroe out of the school more discretely? She and I need to have a meeting with her mother.”

Selene nodded, walking with Allison towards the hidden entrance to the Hale vault. She reached up with one hand to place a temporary blinding spell on Felicia so she couldn’t seen the location. “Are you going to tell my dads about this?” 

Allison studied her, “I’m required to report all attacks on the pack to the –”

“Aunt Allison please don’t. There’s enough going on right now, It’s my fault, I flashed my eyes at Dom, it’s my fault.” Selene reached up to open the vault with her claws. 

“—to the pack Second.” Allison finished, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s up to Cora if she feels like I need to tell Derek and Stiles.” The vault door ground open and she studied the young werewolf, “You all handled this well, you called me, I’ll take care of the Monroe’s. You should be proud of yourself, Selene. Nobody died.” Suddenly, Aunt Allison smelled intensely like a kind of musty old grief, “Keeping your pack alive is something you should always be proud about.” Allison pressed the stone in the wall that closed the vault.

\--

AAL: Who’s available to back me on a conversation with a hunter not following the code?  
AAL: There was a (resolved) incident today at the high school.  
AAL: The kids handled it, nobody was even really injured.   
SSH: I have a meeting with the commissioner.  
SSH: I can send Grant?  
SSH: What kids? Everyone’s okay?  
AAL: As far as I can tell, all the kids, but yes, everyone’s okay.  
JW: I can meet you there, A. I’ll grab Grant on my way, S.  
JW: Text me the address.

\--

Three hours later, Tamora and Felicia Monroe had packed up their small house and were out of Beacon County by sunset, the wards were keyed to prevent their re-entry, and the adults decided that clearly, the kids had things more under control than previously expected.

\--

In the moments where, quite literally, the dust was still settling, Selene has to breathe hard and also can’t breathe because she’s still in shock from what just happened. She’s kneeling in the dirt somewhere in the preserve, hands thrust out to shield herself and Dominic McCall, who is unconscious and bleeding behind her. She glances up for just a moment at the person who attacked them, scoffs, drops the shield and turns to Dom.

“You’re so lucky he’s alive, Orion.” She says through her anger, her magic lashing out into the air even as she checks for injuries and finds Dominic healing. “What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Orion, sitting in the dirt ten feet from the pair of werewolves just shakes his head, “He was attacking you, he was HURTING you.” 

“He was actually testing me!” Selene yelled, turning towards her cousin, “He was helping me test my shielding because he’s the only one who’s actually brave enough to go up against me.”

“He had you pinned, Selene, with his teeth at your throat.” Orion said, standing up, brushing dirt from his pants and jacket. “I reacted to the threat.”

“Why were you even out here?” Selene said, pulling Dominic into her lap, pressing her hands against the sides of his face, closing her eyes to assist with his healing. Orion had dealt injuries that were intentionally difficult to heal, and he knew it. 

“Alex said you were out here with McCall, alone.” 

“So you come stomping out here to interrupt?” 

“Forgive me for not trusting you out here with a wolf from another pack.”

“He’s my best friend, Orion, you’re being completely unreasonable.” Selene looked up, her body tired from sparring with Dom, from fighting with Orion, and now from healing him. “Leave, Orion. I don’t want you around for my graduation. I don’t want you around at all, actually.”

“Selene, you’re overreacting.”

“No, actually, I’m under reacting.” She said, her voice dark, “You like to think you’re all powerful and special because you’re half fucking elf, but don’t forget you’re not the only one who’s more than a wolf. My father is a Gajos mage. Never forget that, Orion, or I will make your life hell. Get out of my face.”

\--

Orion leaves, without explanation.

No one sees him again until Selene is on the other side of the country for College.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two more parts to go, I think, and then I'm going to do a final (10th) chapter which is just a "fun facts" chapter about the kids or about the verse, so if you have pressing questions, ask away in the comments! 
> 
> The ages/# of years are a bit wonky and all over the place, and for that I'm sorry, but it's really difficult when I'm (in places like chapter 9) I'm dealing with 3-4 generations of people, so my ages might be a little wrong, hopefully that doesn't massively obscure the story for anyone!


	8. New wounds, Old wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Hale died once when he was in his early thirties, slashed to death by his nephew's claws, lit on fire by a Molotov cocktail thrown by one teen and broken open by anothers arrow. 
> 
> He died again, closer to forty, riddled with bullets from a backfired spell, and it had cost his Mate's brother a blood guard to return life to his body. 
> 
> Peter is not a stupid man. He knows he will not escape death a third time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I c r I e d writing this but not as much as I cried writing nine. 
> 
> We're almost done, y'all.

By the time it finally arrived, Peter’s death had ceased to be a surprise, and had simmered into an inevitability. He’d aged hard in the midnight years of his life, much more distinctly than other wolves. The difference was especially distinct when compared with Lupe, who looked thirty years younger than his actual age. Elves lived for centuries, sometimes as long as five hundred years before they faded out. Lupe had known this when he’d chosen to mate with Peter, a twice-dead werewolf with a limited number of years left in him.

It didn’t soften the blow of his loss much. 

Lupe, Olivia and Orion had done what they could to ease Peter’s suffering as he went, and by the time he breathed a final goodbye, he faded peacefully, blue eyes soft with contentment. Olivia had choked on her own sobs and buried her face in her father’s neck. Orion had sat back, hands folded over his chest, a tremble in his lips the only outward sign of his grief. Lupe had held fast to Peter’s limp hand bringing it to his lips one final time as tears slid from his eyes. 

Derek had appeared in the doorway a moment later, hand pressed against his chest, gripping tightly to the material of his shirt, green eyes wet with emotion. He looked at Lupe, words dying on his lips as the Elf looked at his alpha and nodded. Derek closed his eyes for a long moment and when they reopened, they were crimson. His face shifted into it’s beta form, and he tilted his head back to howl, long and low and mournful.

Orion hesitated, but the call of the mourning howl overpowered any other feelings within him, and he beta-shifted and howled along with the alpha, tears finally slipping from his golden werewolf eyes. 

\--

Peter Hale had, in the course of his life, earned himself allies and enemies alike. The funeral for him was kept small, the pack and close allies only. Olivia was tucked into her mate’s arms, Lupe leaning hard on his brother’s shoulder. They all stood in a loose half circle, watching as Stiles sat and burned Peter’s body to ash, and then the wind picked up the ashes to spread through the preserve, granting him a final death, one that he could not come back from. 

When it was over, they all returned to the Hale house, a somber collection of elves and wolves and humans. Selene, her mate, Caroline Raeken, and the McCall pack were waiting for them there, Selene having stayed behind to guard the property while the rest of the pack said their goodbyes. Selene disappeared from view as soon as the rest of the pack, feeling, not for the first time, like a stranger in her childhood home.

Six years prior, Selene, Caroline, Dominic and the others that would eventually make up Selene’s pack had moved from the Beacon Hills territory to the old Hale complex in Sacramento, wanting space and distance now that Atlas had established his pack in the current Beacon Hills territory. There was a not-quiet rumor that the real reason that Selene left was that she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Orion. It wasn’t the only reason, but it certainly made the list. Now, Selene stayed to the shadows, out of the way, quiet in an uncharacteristic way, her own heart aching for her lost Uncle, for the lost pack bond she felt – moreso than even Orion did, having left Derek’s pack years ago. 

As the quiet, private celebration wound down, Selene slipped from the house towards the preserve, following the pack’s scent to the place where the earth was still charred in the vauge likeness of her uncle’s body. 

“He loved you.” She was only somewhat surprised to hear the voice behind her. Orion had been able to cloak his scent and heartbeat for years, and she suspected it was something he did on instinct rather than intention nowadays. 

She didn’t turn around, “And I him.” She bit back the tears that threatened in her eyes, unwilling to look weak in front of Orion. 

“I’m sorry I attacked Dominic.” Orion said, moving so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Selene, dropping the blocking so she could hear the steady, truthful beat of his heart. “He’s not his father. He’s proved himself loyal and he protects you fiercely.” 

Selene swallowed harshly and gave a curt nod, “Olivia is going to be my left hand.” She said softly, eyes still fixed on the scorched ground.

“She’s a good choice.” Orion said, “I have a place here, with Atlas. He’s my alpha, and my intention tonight was not to work my way into your pack.” Orion’s shoulders shook, and Selene turned, surprised to see the shock of emotions on Orion’s face, “I lost my father, and I cannot lose any more of my family, not over a petty, decade-old misunderstanding.”

Selene turned and allowed herself to be drawn in against Orion’s chest, resting her head on his shoulder as the elf-wolf held her tightly, his emotions displayed uncharacteristically across his face. She held him tightly, shed her own tears for her lost uncle, and let Orion have this moment. When he had stopped shaking, she drew back. “I need you to apologize to Dominic. Not today, not soon, but some day. He could have died, Orion. He isn’t like you or I, he’s just a werewolf.”

Orion let out a sharp bark of laughter, a small smile crossing his features, “Just a werewolf.” He stared at her, “How many times in our youth would we have given anything to be “just a werewolf”?”

Selene returned it with a grin of her own, “That wasn’t our fate, it would seem.” She squeezed his shoulder and headed back towards the family house, Orion following a few beats later. 

\--

Derek had no interest in taking another left hand after Peter’s death. In fact, he and Stiles found that their own age was staring them in the face, and perhaps it was time for them to step down. A month after Peter died, Derek called Selene to Beacon Hills for a private conversation. She arrived, alone, early in the morning, and was bustled into her father’s office. Hours later, the pair emerged, Derek at Selene’s right, and Selene looked around the pack assembled, grinned, and flashed red eyes. 

In the days that followed, there were formal binding ceremonies, there were other positions to affirm, Olivia Hale as Selene’s left hand, Dominic McCall as her right hand, and Caroline Raeken as her Emissary. All of Derek’s remaining pack pledged loyalty to Selene, but a few of the younger generation asked for a release from their pack bonds and joined Atlas. It wasn’t the time for offense to be taken. Everyone had a reason to pledge to one alpha or the other, and nobody questioned it.

Caroline emerged on the second day of celebrations with a bite scar and a red alpha-mate eye, blushing as Selene tugged her mate close and kissed her without shame. It hadn’t been a match their parents could have predicted, but it had proven, over time, to be a good match. Selene’s wit and intelligence met turn for turm by Caroline’s lashing tongue and temper, but neither woman too proud to admit their wrongdoings. 

When it was all said and done, Selene, Caroline and their pack left for Sacramento, far enough for a semblance of independence, but close enough as to not endanger the wolves of Derek’s former pack that were now bound to her. They were still safe in a territory guarded by two alphas, even if one was approaching the age where, if possible, he too would have passed the alpha spark on to his successor, were it possible. 

Derek and Stiles, bonded now only by a single tenuous love-mate bond, had to re-learn how to function in their daily lives without the pressures and demands of running the strongest pack on the west coast. The pack that had split, irrevocably over the last fifteen years into two packs, strong and proud, with each of their children at the heads. Atlas represented the strength of the Hale lands, their age-old protection of Beacon Hills, while Selene represented the continuation of the legacy that Derek and Stiles had built. 

“What do we do now?” Stiles asked, watching Atlas’ pack disperse to their own homes in the Hale Pack Clearing, and the tail lights of Selene’s envoy disappear into the evening. 

Derek turned to Stiles with a grin, “Whatever we want.” He leaned down to kiss Stiles, pulling the mage close. “They’re going to be great, you know.”

“Of course they are.” Stiles said, leaning his forehead against Derek’s, “They’re our kids.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget, after I post 9 (in a few minutes haha) I'll give it a few days, but then if you have any lingering head canon questions, you can ask and I'll try to answer!
> 
> also, I'm kind of back on Tumblr? those-who-fall.tumblr.com
> 
> feel free to reach out!


	9. and beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you trust me?” Stiles asked.
> 
> “With my life and beyond.” Derek answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so if you thought chapter 8 was a tearjerker, just fuckin wait I cried in the first goddamn paragraph of this and I didn't FUCKIN stop.
> 
> I love angst.
> 
> I love Stiles Stilinski.
> 
> I love Derek Hale.
> 
> I've loved writing this verse but I think I'm getting to the point of deviating so insanely far from canon that it's more like inspired original fiction than actual fan fiction, so, this is my stop, y'all. 
> 
> Here's the end of the Distress Call universe.

The first person who realized that Stiles was dead, of course, was Lydia, who had sat up in bed as the horror washed over her, her bright green eyes full of life even set into a face that had lived seven decades. Jackson had pushed up to a seat next to her, his head cocked inquisitively. Lydia choked on her breath a few times, lips quivering, before the banshee’s scream tore through the night, the notes weaving together with the other banshee in residence, her daughter Morgan. 

When the scream ended, and tears spilled down Lydia’s face, Jackson turned to ask who, but the answer came to him in startling clarity, the telltale breaking of a pack bond by death, dissolving away into nothingness, but no pain, at least not, tangible pain. Jackson began cataloguing the bonds that remained to find the one that had broken, but the answer came in the form of a long, broken howl from the main pack house, a howl that was achingly familiar, the howl of his former alpha, and Jackson felt tears spill into his own eyes as he beta shifted to join in the howl of mourning. 

It would come to light with the morning sun that Stiles Stilinski-Hale, descended from a Gajos mage, strongest magic user in North America, mated to the son of the Hale line, father to both Hale Alphas, had died in a painfully human way. An aneurysm had taken him, quietly, in the middle of the night, with no warning but the screams of two banshees, coming far too late to save a seventy-two year old human from the burst vessel in his brain.

Werewolves, generally, aged more slowly than humans did. Even Lydia had aged more slowly than Stiles had, though, in the day that followed, she felt every one of her seventy-two years as she somehow tried to pull herself together to plan the funeral for her best friend, even with Allison and Morgan’s help. Derek, reeling from a broken mate bond and the loss of his partner of over fifty years, had hardly left the bench in Stiles’ garden, staring into the preserve with tear-filled eyes, flashing beta-blue occasionally. 

Atlas had been the one to call his sister, who had driven down from where she and her pack had settled in Sacramento, appearing that evening in a few cars only to fall to her knees when she hit the weakened ward lines, setting her face against the tears that spilled down and forcing her own power into the wards, flaring them back to life with sheer force of will, collapsing from the effort. Dominic McCall had gathered his alpha into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the Beacon Hills Hale Pack House, and set her down, kissing her forehead, before leaving to go give his father whatever comfort he could.

Scott was near-catatonic with the news, standing by a window, staring out it, breathing infrequently, in small, chipped breaths. Dom’s mother was equally wrecked, tears spilling over her face from where she was curled into the couch, eyes occasionally flashing as the emotions threatened her tenuous control. “They said it was peaceful.” Dominic said softly. 

Scott finally turned from the window to look at his son with a small smile, “He’s with John and his mom now.” He said softly. In the scope of things, the seven years the alpha and mage had spent without friendship paled in comparison to the years they’d spent before and the years after, a friendship renewed with trust and affection. The moonlight cast half his face into shadows, creating a dichotomy of half smile, half empty darkness. It was, Dominic felt, perhaps a good metaphor for his father in this moment, with his best friend of many years torn away, taking half of him to the grave alongside him. 

Selene woke the following morning, staring up at her brother’s face, both of them immediately breaking into tears. She clung to Atlas, who, as he always had, was a pillar of strength, holding fast to the fact that he would see Stiles again in the dreamspace, that right now, his purpose was to be strong for the father they had left, and for Selene, who shared a connection with Stiles that Atlas could never compare to. 

Selene had climbed out of the bed she’d been laid in, brushing past Atlas with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, and walked towards the back of the house, passing through the screen room towards the gardens. She stopped just short and stared at the slumped, grey-haired figure of her dad, sitting on a bench in the center of a garden of flowers that looked, to a trained eye, slightly less bright than they might have the day prior.

“Dad.” Selene said softly, not wanting to startle him. 

Derek turned to his daughter with eyes so red that even werewolf healing couldn’t fix it. He didn’t say anything, just shook his head, hands clenching, mouth falling open but no words coming out. Selene didn’t say anything else, just walked forward and sat next to him on the bench, letting him pull her in into a hug, the former alpha resting his head atop his daughters, breathing in the scent that was so like his husbands. 

“Grandpa?” 

Selene cursed under her breath and turned to her ten-year-old son, “Noah, he’s not feeling well right now.” She knew she should have been gentler, her children had lost a grandfather too.

“Mom it’s important.” Noah said stubbornly. 

“It’s okay, Selene.” Derek said, his voice gravelly, and he turned, “What’s up, little one.” 

Noah stepped forward, climbing into Derek’s lap, “Grandpa Stiles said that we were supposed to make sure to give you lots of hugs when this happened.” Noah said, no skip in his heartbeat as he tucked himself against Derek’s chest.

Derek blinked a few times, “Noah….” He exhaled sharply, “Noah, did you See this?” 

Noah looked up, brilliant brown eyes sparking like honey in the sun, “I told Grandpa Stiles about it. He said it was s’posed to be our secret.” 

Selene’s breath caught in her throat. Her son, who was human, had inherited the Seer skillset that his great-grandmother had been so well known for. “You saw that Grandpa Stiles was going to leave us?” 

Noah gave her an annoyed look, “Duh.” He gave a little sad frown, “I told him when it was going to happen and he said that I had to keep it a secret and that I was s’posed to tell Nat and Erica and Talia and Melly and Christopher that we were s’posed to give Grandpa Derek and Grandpa Scott and Grandma Lydia lots of hugs. At least, I think that’s what Grandpa Stiles meant.” 

“What did Grandpa Stiles say exactly?” Derek said, burying his face in his grandson’s hair.

“That we were s’posed to give you something to hold on to.” Noah said, his face innocent to the double meaning of Stiles’ words. 

Derek choked on a sob and tugged the little boy closer to him, looking up over his head at Selene with green-hazel eyes bright with tears, “Lots of hugs, little one.” He said softly, the tears spilling down on to wrinkled cheeks, “That’s exactly what I need.” 

Selene wiped her eyes and left the two alone in the garden. 

\--

The funeral was held in the preserve, Stiles’ body entombed by Lupe, Atlas, and Faris in the root cellar of the Nemeton. As soon as they had laid his body to rest, the earth seemed to rumble beneath them, and after an impossibly bright flash of light, where once a stump had stood, the Nemeton rose from the ground in all its ancient glory, a last gift from Stiles to the land that had been his home for so long. 

There was food and chatter, pictures strung around the clearing behind the main Hale house, flowers from Stiles’ garden scattered on tables. Packs from the surrounding area had come in to visit, some flying in from further away, all walking without hesitation through the intent wards set by Selene, Orion and Olivia to protect the pack in their time of mourning. 

Lupe was seated with Derek, the elf silent in his grief, but a comforting, constant presence. Neither of them really felt the need to speak, both knowing the resonant emptiness of a lost mate bond, the foreboding truth of facing years without them. Derek wasn’t entirely sure that he had the kind of internal strength that the elf did, to carry on, but for now, he sat pensively at a table and watched the celebration of his husband’s life carry on around him. 

Faris dropped into the other chair beside Derek at the nearly-empty table, his eyes wrinkled and his hair long-since gone grey, though still curling from his head. He and Lupe shared a small, private smile. Faris turned back to Derek. “Zahra told me that Noah Saw this and Stiles kept him quiet about it.” He said, leaning back against the chair. 

Derek looked up from his hands, eyes wrecked with grief, “That night, before we went to bed, Stiles leaned over and kissed me, and rested his forehead against mine, told me he loved me, and asked me if I trusted him. He’s done it a hundred times over the course of our relationship, I thought nothing of it.” Lupe leaned forward, a regal, long-fingered hand resting on Derek’s back, the gentle swell of elvish calming washing over the distraught werewolf.

Faris nodded, solemnly, leaning close to Derek, “And, my dear friend, what was your answer to him?”

Derek let out a soft sigh, his lips forming into a ghost of a once-bright smile, “With my life and beyond.” 

Faris returned the small smile, “And beyond.” He repeated. “Do you think, Derek, that perhaps those exact words were what Stiles sought from you that night.”

Lupe continued his gentle motions on Derek’s back. “Your mother was a dreamwalker, and so too, Derek, is your son. I think with proper motivation and assistance….” Lupe looked away, catching Atlas’ gaze, the current alpha returning a small nod, “I do believe you will Stiles again in that beyond.” 

\--

That night, as Derek slept, fitfully, alone in a bed for the first time in so many years, he found himself dreaming.

__

_The preserve of dreamspace smells a lot like the preserve of reality, and Derek knows immediately where he is when he blinks awake, taking in the muted colors. He stands with an ease that left him twenty years ago, and comes face-to-face with his son, who stands against the muted background in bright technicolor. “Welcome to dreamspace.” Atlas said softly, turning his head, face going serious, listening._

_“Is it always the preserve?” Derek asked softly._

_Atlas shrugged one shoulder, “It’s always what it needs to be.” He said, turning back to his father, “I’ve never seen you without grey in your hair, father-mine.”_

_Derek rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t that grey by the time you came around.”_

_“You were definitely starting to go grey. We did have 5-year-old Selene to contend with.”_

_The voice made Derek freeze in place, watching a smile curl its way around Atlas lips as he nodded, motioning behind Derek. The former alpha turned slowly, his eyes drinking in the tall, broad-shouldered, lean form of his lover, with a mess of brown hair atop his head that should have been grey, a baby face that had lost the wrinkles it once held, but ageless honey-brown eyes. “Stiles.” Derek said, breathless._

_“Got it in one, big guy.” Dreamspace-Stiles stepped forward to grab both of Derek’s hands._

_“Why did you go?” Derek asked, emotions bleeding into his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us, we could have tried to heal you, found some way to stop it.”_

_Stiles shook his head, “This time. But what about the next time? Or what about when dementia or Alzheimer’s took me, and the world was facing a mage with the kind of power I used to have, but with no control, no grasp of reality? It was time for me to go, Derek.”_

_“Why do I have to stay?” Derek asked, tears in his eyes, distraught._

_“Because someone needs to make sure none of the kids get named after me.” Stiles said with a soft smile, “You’re a werewolf, my love. Peter dying was an anomaly, probably because of how many times he’d cheated death as it was. But you have ten, maybe fifteen more good years with our family. The family we built together. Don’t give those up for me.”_

_Derek pulled the dreamspace Stiles close, pressing a long, deep kiss to his lips, nodding, breathing him in, “And you’ll be here? Can I get back here to you?”_

_Stiles shrugged, “Without Atlas? I don’t know. And it takes a lot of energy to bring someone with you.” He looked over Derek’s shoulder at his son, who was pointedly looking away, “But I’ll be waiting for you, beyond.”_

_“I love you.” Derek whispered, kissing Stiles again as the wind picked up around them._

_“And I love you, Sourwolf.” The wind wiped Stiles away, painting the world black._

Derek woke in their bed, rolling over with a choked off sob to breathe in what was left of the scent of his mate. He drew in a long breath, sitting up and reaching to wipe his eyes, staring at the pictures on the walls around him, running his awareness down the pack bonds that tied him, against the emptiness where his thrice forged mate bond, which had simmered with the loss of his alpha spark to a more typical mate bond, had once been.

“Ten or fifteen years.” Derek said softly, staring at a picture of Stiles holding baby Selene. “You better be waiting for me, you asshole.” He muttered before getting up to go downstairs and face the day. 

\--

Twelve years later, when Derek eventually passed, as werewolves do in times without bloodshed, peacefully in the night, he woke in a forest on a dark, windy night, with a crescent moon bright in the sky and looked up to meet a pair of mischievous whiskey-brown eyes, and a voice he knew so well murmuring, “Welcome to our Beyond, Derek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so "the end" is a bit dramatic. I might still post the pWP's but I haven't liked any of the sex stuff I've written lately and I don't have a good reason to not like it but I just...don't. 
> 
> anyway, reach out on Tumblr with questions or prompts, those-who-fall.tumblr.com
> 
> or, post questions in the comments, and I'll give y'all a 10th chapter of Q&A about anything distress call verse related!
> 
> But as a sidetone: Caroline is Theo and Gianna's daughter, for the record!! Gianna uh...whipped Theo into shape and I may mean that in more than one way.


End file.
